


Four Weddings

by AyMayZing



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dorian Pavus Has Family Issues, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Humor, Friends Who Meddle, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied past emotional abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Lyrium Addiction, M/M, POV Dorian Pavus, Weddings, a bit but Prejudice Against Elves, a bit of homophobia and biphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyMayZing/pseuds/AyMayZing
Summary: What happens when two people who dislike weddings meet at a particularly boring one? Obviously, they get into a drinking game.And what happens when these two keep meeting at weddings? Obviously, they fall in love.A modern AU where Dorian and Lavellan keep bumping into each other at their friends' weddings.
Relationships: Bethany Hawke/Sebastian Vael, Carver Hawke/Merrill, Dagna/Sera (Dragon Age), Josephine Montilyet/Adorno Ciel Otranto, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 60





	1. Wedding No. 1 - Merrill and Carver

**Author's Note:**

> This fic idea completely took over my life and I had to write it. I am really happy with the result and I hope you'll enjoy it as well. Huge thanks to the wonderful [@oxygenforthewicked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxygenforthewicked/pseuds/oxygenforthewicked) who helped me so much with this fic, thank you!  
> I have pretty much the whole story written out so I should update regularly.

**With great pleasure**

**Merrill Sabrae and Carver Hawke**

**invite you to join them**

**at the celebration of their marriage**

**9th of Justinian, 9:39 Dragon at three in the afternoon**

**in the Kirkwall Chantry.**

**Dinner and dancing to follow at the Harimann Club.**

It was that time in Dorian’s life. That time he dreaded, as it meant he was getting old. That time, when he started getting invited to his friends’ weddings.

Dorian never liked weddings. They were usually dull family affairs, during which uncles asked about his life plans, aunts reminded him he wasn’t getting any younger, his father introduced him to respectable girls his age and his mother got drunk out of her mind, forcing him to take her home while listening to her complaining about him, her husband, parents and siblings. The only somewhat nice part of weddings had been his cousins, Montilyets, children of his mother’s sister who married an Antivan and moved out. It was probably the reason why her 5 children were completely different from the rest of the family. But even getting to see them didn’t wash off the bad taste of family gatherings.

When Dorian moved out (or rather escaped) from his parents, he promised himself he would never attend another wedding. But then he got the invitation from Carver and let Bethany talk him into coming. She promised it’d be fun - none of his family, and all of the good booze. Maybe he’d even meet someone? Apparently Carver’s coworkers were a rather attractive bunch.

This is how Dorian found himself at the grand hall of the Harimann Club at three forty five, making his way to the long table filled with bottles, where guests could pour themselves simple drinks and not stand in the line to the bar. Carver and Merrill hadn’t arrived yet, they were probably still at the Chantry and guests who weren’t invited to the ceremony or chose not to attend it, were mingling around the room. Most of them, Dorian noticed, weren’t Carver or Merrill’s friends but the elite of Kirkwall, invited by the man’s slightly overbearing mother. How unsurprising.

Bethany was in the Chantry with her brother and so Dorian had no one to speak to. He suspected he knew  _ some _ people here, probably some of Carver’s friends from college, they did, after all, party together back then. Maybe some mutual friends of Bethany and Carver. But there was no one he knew well enough that he wanted to talk to them, so until Bethany arrived, it was just him and hopefully, some smooth, Antivan whisky.

Dorian stopped before the table and appraised the bottles standing on it. Lots of wine, some vodka, a few liquors in weird colors that he didn’t recognize and one bottle filled with something that looked like whisky, though it was hard to be sure because of the dark, hazy glass it was in. Dorian reached out for it.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” A low, accented voice spoke behind him, causing Dorian to freeze with his hand over the bottle. He turned his head and noticed an elf standing nearby, watching Dorian over the top of his glass.

“Unless you’re Fereldan, that is.” The man continued, “In that case, enjoy but allow me to leave the vicinity first.”

Dorian’s hand dropped to his side as he appraised the elf. He was clearly a Dalish, as dark brown tattoos curled on his pale, freckled face. He was a bit shorter than Dorian and was wearing a dark green, three piece suit and a medical brace on his left wrist. His long, bright blonde hair pulled into a ponytail at the back of his head and big, golden-green eyes shined with amusement as he looked at Dorian.

A bit surprised (but not negatively) by the interaction, Dorian smiled lightly at the elf.

“Ahh, it’s one of those foul Fereldan concoctions?”

“Indeed. Lothering special moonshine. It tastes bad and smells even worse.”

“And you end up with an awful hangover the next morning. I remember.” Dorian added. “They should hide it for now and only put it out once everyone is drunk. No one notices what they’re drinking then.”

The elf huffed out a laugh.

“That would be in good taste, yeah. But it is a wedding of a Fereldan, so you can’t expect much.”

“I was hoping the other half would be the saving grace.”

“Oh, she would be if the groom’s mother’d let her. Since that’s not the case…”

“Anything could happen.” Dorian finished and the elf nodded, sipping on his drink, eyes darting around the room.

Pavus wasn’t looking forward to meeting new people but the elf seemed friendly and talking to him was surprisingly easy. He also seemed to have good taste in alcohol, which bode well. And it would take a while for Bethany to get here, so Dorian decided to continue the conversation.

“So since I’m a sane man of good taste, I’ll stay away from this.” He sighed, looking back to the table. “But I won’t make it through this wedding without  _ some _ alcohol. Any suggestions?” He asked the elf and he looked back at Dorian.

“That depends. What do you like? And are you willing to try something new?”

Dorian considered it for a moment.

“Well, why not? Surprise me.”

The elf sent him a crooked smile that showed off some of his teeth, a smile that Dorian found captivating.

“Try this one.” He said, pointing a lithe finger at a short, round bottle full of transparent, bright green liquid. “It’s a Dalish liquor made with wild herbs and flowers.”

“Dalish, huh? I’ve never had a Dalish drink before. Thank you.”

Dorian poured himself a bit of said liquor and took a sip. The alcohol was smooth and rich, the taste of herbs clear. It left and a bit of sweetness in his mouth and a pleasant burning in his throat. Pavus hummed.

“That’s wonderful!”

The elf nodded.

“I know. But I’m glad you like it! One can never know with your human taste buds.”

Dorian topped off his glass and turned his back to the table, watching the room filling up with more and more guests, mirroring the elf’s position.

“I’m Dorian, by the way. Charmed.” He introduced himself, sending his companion his most charming smile. The blonde looked at him surprised then chuckled.

“Right! Haven’t introduced myself yet. Sorry about that. I’m Lys.” He gave Dorian a little wave, smiling at him brightly.

“Are you a guest of the bride or the groom?” Pavus asked, causing the elf to snort. Dorian realized Lys was pretty much constantly smiling, it just changed a bit every now and then. It wasn’t bad as he had a pretty smile.

“Thought that was obvious?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to presume….”

Lys shook his head.

“It’s fine. I’m Merrill’s guest. An old friend. You’re with Carver?”

Dorian nodded. “I went to college with Bethany, Carver’s sister. Met him through her.”

“Are you also a physicist?”

“Yes. Theoretical. I don’t work with Bethany anymore but we still keep in touch. That’s how I got invited to the wedding.”

“You sound almost surprised by that.” Lys said, causing Dorian to shrug a bit.

“I was slightly surprised. I’ve known Carver for years but I’m Bethany’s friend. Though now that we’re here, I realize that the wedding list isn’t limited to family and close friends.”

“Sure isn’t.” Lavellan murmured, sipping his drink slowly. “Most of the guests are Leandra’s associates. Politicians, brokers, judges, magistrates… As far as I’m aware, only a few people here are the newlyweds’ friends.”

“How many of those friends do you know?” Dorian asked, hoping he wasn’t the only one lost and out of place. Lys hummed.

“Let’s see… There’s Merrill, of course. Carver’s older brother, Hawke, his boyfriends Fenris and Anders. Varric Tethras, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Dorian seconded, smiling lightly. Varric was something of a local celebrity - son of a rich family from Kirkwall, who opened a bar and started writing books, ending up as one of the best selling authors from the Free Marches. Everyone knew of him and him personally, at least a bit.

“Isabela,” Lys continued. “And a few of my fellow Dalish. That’s it. Not a lot.”

No, not a lot for a 250 person wedding.

“You’re still better off than I am. I only know Bethany and her Sebastian, Carver, Varric and Isabela. And probably a few people I know from college are here, but Void take me if I’m capable of recognizing them.” Dorian sighed, watching people walking around the room. He chanced a look at Lys.

“I apologize if this is an insensitive question but I thought Merrill isn’t in touch with the Dalish? Bethany told me something of the sort.”

“With her clan.” Lys corrected him. “She did fall out with the clan she’s from but that doesn’t mean she's cut off every single Dalish.”

“Are you… from another clan?” Dorian asked, knowing he was walking on thin ice. He didn’t know much about the Dalish - the Imperium didn’t like to mention them. Or any other group they oppressed and tried to eradicate. Therefore he didn't know which questions were normal and which were intrusive and insensitive. 

Thankfully, Lys didn’t seem to mind. He even sent Dorian a small smile that seemed encouraging.

“Yes, I am. But clans aren’t completely separated. We meet every now and then. Merrill and mine clans used to be close when we were little.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you.”

They stood in silence for a while, both observing the room, until Lys asked:

“Dorian, how long does a Chantry wedding take?”

Pavus smiled, shaking his head.

“In the southern Chantry? I have no clue.”

“Are the differences so big?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Lys hummed but clearly wasn’t satisfied with such an answer.

“Tell me something else,” Dorian asked the elf, “How does this union work? They’re getting married in the Chantry but what about a Dalish wedding?”

Lys smirked sardonically, a crease between his brows.

“Today is the Chantry ceremony. The Dalish bonding will happen in a few days, performed by the Keeper from my clan. Merrill and Carver wanted to do both ceremonies today but Carver’s mother deemed it…  _ distasteful _ .” Lys spat the last word.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it incredibly rude?” Pavus asked. Lys just shrugged.

“Of course it is. But who cares about some silly Dalish ceremony, huh? Leandra wanted the Chantry wedding to happen first and when they proposed the Dalish bonding could happen right after, here, she was horrified by the thought someone could see her son associate with  _ the pagan gods of savages _ . And since she’s paying, they couldn’t really fight her…”

Dorian made a sound of disgust and disapproval but he didn’t know what to say. It was clear Lys was used to seeing his faith put down and being overlooked and that’s just something that never happened to Dorian. He could not relate though he did recognize the injustice. Instead, he said:

“You must be close with Merrill to know all those details.”

Lys nodded, a genuine smile returning to his face. It might’ve been the alcohol talking, but Dorian liked the way it made Lys’ tattoos curve, corners of his eyes crinkle. In 20 years or so Lys will definitely sport a wonderful set of crow's feet. 

“Yeah. We’ve known each other forever but we grew closer after… the accident.”

“The accident?” Dorian asked before he could bite his tongue.

“The car accident that took Merrill’s friends. Five years ago, I think. Drunk driver.”

“Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s fine.” Lys shook his head. “Just don’t mention it to Merrill after she drank something. She gets sad drunk and bringing up Tamlen and Mahariel will just make her cry.”

Dorian nodded solemnly. “And we don’t want that on her wedding day.”

He downed the rest of his really good drink and sighed, looking at the empty glass sadly.

“And here goes my wonderful drink. What a shame. Any suggestions for my next choice of spirits?” He asked, looking at Lys. The elf sent him an incredulous look.

“The newlyweds aren’t even here yet and you want a second drink?”

Dorian huffed.

“I am capable of handling my liquor, thank you very much. Now point me to a liquor to handle.”

That startled a laugh out of Lys but he turned to the table and began perusing the bottles there.

“Sure thing. But if you don’t remember this wedding tomorrow, don’t blame it on me.”

“Who else am I supposed to blame it on? Certainly not on myself.”

“Typical Vint.” Lys grumbled under his breath but there was no bite to it. Dorian felt a smile tugging at his lips. “Do you want something less tasty but less alcoholic or something really good but you’ll pass out after like, two more drinks?”

Dorian scoffed.

“I take offense at that. I will not pass out after a few drinks.”

Lys raised a brow and smiled wickedly.

“So sure about that?”

“Certain. I’m no weak Orlesian, I can handle a few drinks. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I can outdrink everyone at this wedding, as long as we’re not drinking that Fereldan swill.”

Lys’ face was a mixture of mischievousness and pity for Dorian’s poor life choices.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Sparkler! Charms!” A voice behind them called and they both turned to look, pulled out of their comfortable bubble. Making his way towards them was no other than Varric Tethras, dressed in an elegant dark suit with his red shirt opened halfway. Ah, it’s nice to know some things never change.

“Varric!” They both called out in greeting, smiling at the dwarf. He hugged them both then stepped back, watching them.

“I didn’t know you two know each other.”

“We didn’t,” Dorian said at the same time as Lys said “Now we do”. They exchanged amused looks then turned back to Varric, who’s smile seemed a bit bigger than before.

“Where are Carver and Merrill? On their way?”

“How was the wedding? Did they cry a lot?”

“They should be here soon. The wedding was beautiful. They both cried like babies.” Varric answered. Lys shot him a pointed look.

“Varric, did  _ you _ cry?”

“Don’t talk bullshit like that, Charms. Someone could hear you and believe that!”

“Varric, you  _ did _ cry!”

“No comment!” Varric cut him off but he was smiling. “Better tell me what you are drinking and what you were talking about. You seemed absorbed.”

“I was just assuring Lys here that I can hold my liquor.” Dorian said but Lys scoffed.

“He was bragging he can outdrink everyone at this wedding.”

“Everyone? Sparkler, I know you’re a self-assured jerk, but come on… Everyone knows no one can outdrink Hawke.”

“I bet I’m not that far behind.” Dorian shrugged, his pride hurt. 

“Ha! That might’ve been true back in your college years, but now? I wouldn’t be so sure. Charms here is definitely closer to Hawke than you are.”

Well, that just couldn’t stand.

“I’ll prove it!” Dorian announced and turned to face Lys, who seemed amused and delighted. “Let’s make it a challenge. We’ll drink the same stuff in the same amounts and we’ll see who will black out sooner! Varric will keep the score.”

“Varric will  _ help you _ keep the score,” Varric corrected, “But sure, why not? That’ll spice up this boring, stuck up wedding.”

Lys gazed at Dorian for a while, seemingly considering the situation, then held out his hand, a crooked smile on his lips.

“You’re on.” He said and they shook on it. Varric clapped once and loudly.

“Wonderful!”

“So, what are we drinking next?” Dorian turned back to the table but before he could take a good look at the labels, Lys already grabbed a bottle of red liquid that most certainly wasn’t Antivan wine. It was brighter and more transparent.

“This” He said, seemingly very pleased with himself. Varric took a look at the bottle and whistled.

“An Avvar mead? Who bought it? This shit’s super expensive.”

“That’s why we're drinking it. My penny pinching soul will never let me buy this for myself, so I need to use the occasion to try this.”

“You seem to know a lot about alcohol.” Dorian said, watching Lys smiling at the bottle. The elf met his eyes and winked at Dorian.

“How do you think I know Varric? I used to work as a bartender at the Hanged Man. Merrill got me the job.”

“And I’m still sad you left.” The dwarf sighed, giving Dorian a meaningful look. “An attractive bartender always bumps up the sales and this guy is a real charmer.”

“Hence the nickname, I assume.” Dorian chuckled.

Lys gave both Varric and Dorian glasses of the red, Avvar liquor, then grabbed one for himself.

“To the happy couple!” Lys called and they clinked their glasses together. Dorian took a sip and choked a bit. The liquor was heavy and very alcoholic. It wasn’t sweet but neither was it bitter and tasted a bit fruity and very spicy.

Varric sighed, impressed.

“That’s good.” His voice was a bit rough, which meant it wasn’t just Dorian who was surprised by the levels of capsaicin in the drink.

Before Lys managed to express his opinion on the drink, an applause sounded through the room and they all turned to see Merrill and Carver walking into the room. They looked really sweet and Dorian actually felt touched by the sight of them - not something he expected. Merrill was wearing a beautiful, flowing white dress with green elements that brought out her eyes. Carver was in a very elegant, black suit and his bowtie was the same green color. They were both smiling brightly and blushing, holding hands as they made their way through the room.

“They’re here! Oh, they look so cute together!” Lys gushed, beaming, as he watched them. He turned around to Dorian and pushed his glass into his hands. “Hold it for me for a moment, would you? I gotta talk to Merrill. Be right back!” And before Dorian could say anything, the elf was gone. He looked after the elf’s retreating figure, his ponytail swooshing to the sides as he pretty much jumped through the hall.

“He’s like that. A bit… hyperactive.” A voice next to him said and Dorian remembered that Varric was a part of the conversation. When he turned to look at the dwarf, Varric’s expression was a bit too self-pleased for Dorian’s liking. “Always moving around. And a big flirt. One of the best bartenders I’ve ever hired.”

Dorian hummed, taking another careful sip of his drink.

“Why’d he leave?”

“Graduated college.” Varric shrugged. “Wanted to find another job. Though I never saw him as a nine-to-fiver.”

Dorian looked back at the newlyweds, now barely visible through the crowd gathered around them, but he did notice Lys, animatedly talking to someone, waving his hand in the air and shaking his head. He had a good profile, Dorian thought. Pretty nose.

A pair of arms wrapped around him and before he realized what was happening, he was pressed against a warm, soft, small body smelling of citruses, his vision obscured by a mess of black hair. Laughter bubbled out of him.

“Bethany! Here I thought I wouldn’t see you until after dinner, with all the bridesmaid duties weighing down on you.”

“Nonsense.” She huffed, pulling back but holding him at arm's length. “I so rarely get to see you in person, I wouldn’t miss this chance.”

Bethany was wearing a green dress and had a light, natural makeup that accented her beautiful eyes and full lips, though Dorian noticed some smudges around her eyes, indicating she cried a bit. But it was, after all, her twin brother's wedding, she had every right to do so. But the sad mood must’ve passed, at least for now and she was practically beaming, a big, toothy smile on her face as she took in Dorian’s face.

“Flatterer.” Dorian murmured but he was also smiling. “Well then, I’d say you need to start with telling me all the gossip. Knowing who where and with whom always makes a wedding so much more interesting.”

Bethany smirked.

“Oh, I have a list of what to tell you. But first, I need a drink.” She pulled back and her eyes darted to the two glasses Dorian was holding.

“Why do you have two drinks? Is one for me or are you just a terrible drunkard?”

“The latter is true and you know that. Though this time only one drink is mine. I’m holding the other for a…” What’s the right word here?  _ Friend  _ seemed a bit strong, but  _ acquaintance  _ was so bleak it would raise Bethany’s suspicions. “Colleague.” He stumbled out, still unsatisfied. Bethany’s eyebrows rose up and Dorian braced for some silly comments but was saved by Varric of all people.

“He means Lys. You remember Lys? He worked as a bartender at the Hanged Man? Yeah, so they just met over drinks and made a bet on who can outdrink the other.”

“Ooh, fun! That’ll keep me sane at this wedding party. Do you know I barely know anyone here? So does Carver! It’s madness! I certainly won’t let mother arrange the guest list for my wedding when the time comes.”

“Good idea.” Lys said, causing Dorian to jump slightly. He turned and noticed the elf standing next to him, a smile on his face as he looked at Dorian. He didn’t hear or notice his return and the elf seemed aware of that and rather pleased with himself.

“Sorry, did I scare you? Or were you just hoping I wouldn’t return, so you can get out of our bet?” He joked, taking his glass out of Dorian’s hand. Their fingers brushed as he did that and something like electricity shot through Dorian’s hand. He furrowed his eyebrows at the elf.

“I’ll win and you’ll regret even making this bet.”

“Something tells me you’ll both regret it in the morning.” Bethany laughed, turning her gaze from Dorian to Lys. “Hi, by the way! Long time, no see!”

“Hi, there!” The elf gave her a warm smile and took a sip out of his drink.

“So what are you betting on?” She asked.

“Nothing.”

“Is it really a bet if there’s no prize?” Beth wondered, eyeing Lys’ drink.

“It’s not about prizes but pride!” Dorian retorted, rising his chin slightly. Lys nodded fervently.

“True. It’s to show this smug Vint here that I’m better. And to entertain my friends on this stuck up,  _ shem  _ wedding. You guys don’t know how to party.”

Varric raised his glass.

“I’ll drink to that. Out of all the humans I know, only Hawke really gets what’s fun.”

“But Garrett’s more of a force of nature than a human, so does that really count?” Bethany laughed. Varric turned to Lys.

“Charms, can you pour Sunshine some of that Avvar mead? You gotta try it. Did your mother buy it? Or one of the guests?”

Bethany shrugged her shoulders and gladly accepted the drink Lys handed her. She took a sip and coughed lightly.

“What is that? Why is it spicy?”

“Sunshine, this stuff is a super expensive Avvar drink. I only tried it once before.”

Bethany eyed the glass, then took a careful sip.

“It’s strong. Will get me through this wedding. If I have to hear mother saying  _ You’ll be next _ while looking at me with tears in her eyes, I am not planning on doing that while sober. It feels like she’s threatening me.”

Lys snorted.

“With how she organized this wedding, I’d say she is.”

Bethany sighed loudly, looking back at the table where her mother sat. The woman was talking to someone from the staff and Bethany checked the time.

“It’s almost 4.30. They’ll serve the dinner soon - better get to our places now, make sure no one changes the seating arrangement. I fought tooth and nail to make sure you guys could sit together, not squeezed between some boring friends of my mother.

“Our hero.” Dorian hummed.

They followed Bethany to the table she pointed out - indeed, Dorian, Lys and Varric were to sit at the same table, along with Isabela, a couple consisting of a stern, red haired woman and her softie of a husband, both of whom Varric apparently knew well and a few Dalish elves from Lys’ clan. Not long after they sat down, a bell rang and the rest of the guests began looking for their seats.

“There’ll be wine accompanying the food, make sure you count it into your bet.” Bethany said and left them to sit at her own table.

***

Drink counter: 1 glass of Dalish liquor, 1 glass of Avvar mead, 1 glass of wine

The dancing began after the dinner but Dorian just sat at his table, not eager to join others on the dancefloor, no matter how often Bethany waved at him from there. Dancing is fun but not when 250 people, most from the Kirkwall elite, were watching and judging him. They were already eyeing him wearily, so he didn’t think that subjecting himself to even more dirty looks was a good idea.

Lys sat down next to Dorian and handed him an orange drink with a dried lemon slice floating in it.

“Are we doing sweet drinks now? You’re planning on giving us the worst hangover of our lives tomorrow?” Dorian asked with a smile but accepted the glass. Lys smirked at him.

“You can always give up.”

“You wish.”

They clinked their glasses and sipped the drinks lazily, watching the people dancing, when an elderly woman passed by them, her back stiff, eyes trained on ahead, bag pressed tightly to her chest. Lys started giggling the moment she was out of sight.

“I seem to have scared the grandma there.”

“You think it was you?” Dorian asked.

“Of course. Don’t you know the stories of the savage Dalish sneaking into wedding parties and stealing children and bags?”

“But she could’ve been scared that if she’d look into my eyes, I’d curse her and her descendants up to seven generations. Don’t you know the stories of the evil Tevinters and their alleged charms?”

Lys chuckled, shifting in his seat.

“You’re right, it could’ve been either of us. What do you think about this one?” Lys asked, nodding towards a middle-aged woman in a red dress dancing with an elderly gentleman nearby. Her eyes kept flickering towards them. “Which one of us is she more afraid of?”

“Well, she’s not clutching any purses, so I’d say it’s me. Look, she’s leaning on her husband so much and she’s clearly very wealthy. She doesn’t fear the Dalish, as she thinks she’s far more important than you. But a Tevinter? That’s a threat she hasn’t faced before.”

Lys hummed, impressed.

“You’re good at that.”

“No, I simply meet this kind of person at every party I go to.”

“Look there,” Lys leaned towards Dorian, his warm breath touching Dorian’s ear and sending a shiver down his spine. “That old man over there. Expensive but modest suit, an old tie, a golden Chantry amulet on his neck. I’d say a banker or a trader. Very devout, probably donates to them generously. He deals with Tevinters for a living, so you don’t impress him but pagan Dalish he’s heard about during sermons from overzealous mothers? He never thought he’d come into contact with us. That’s why he keeps looking towards us.”

“And probably why his daughters are sitting at the table with him instead of dancing.” Dorian added. “He’s terrified some handsome Dalish devil will steal their souls.”

They both laughed, causing a couple who was passing by them to flinch and scurry away from them. This only added to their amusement.

“Wanna shock them even more?” Lys asked, downing his drink and standing up. He held out a hand to Dorian. “How about a dance?”

Dorian wasn’t planning on dancing and considering he was on his fourth drink already, it probably wasn’t a good idea.

He grabbed Lys’ hand and let him pull him to his feet and onto the dance floor. The elf rested a hand on Dorian’s side, while Pavus put his on the elf’s shoulder and they started swaying to the music. Dorian smirked at Lys.

“If you can find me ten silk scarves, I’ve got a dance that will really shock them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

***

Drink counter: 1 glass of Dalish liquor, 1 glass of Avvar mead, 1 glass of wine, 3 sweet drinks

The wedding party picked up some pace after a few hours. Boring, slow music was forgotten in favour of something faster and easier to dance to. Most of the older guests sat at their tables or stood at the bar and discussed politics, sports or whatever, while teenagers and those who considered themselves young adults were dancing.

So was Dorian and most of his friends. They danced in a big circle, every now and then someone would split away to dance in pairs, get something to drink or go to the bathroom and then they’d return.

Dorian had danced with Bethany, Isabela and even managed to snag a dance with the bride herself but usually when he left the circle of dancers, he was accompanied by Lys. The alcohol was getting to both of them but none of them wanted to give up on the contest. After the orange drinks they had before they got onto the dance floor, they went down the slippery slope of sweet, fruity drinks. At some point they started ordering them by colors or moods, not actual ingredients, forcing the poor bartender to mix them something not out of the menu. Though the dark-haired elven woman behind the bar seemed quite amused with their shenanigans and seemed glad she got to prepare something fancier than gin and tonic.

Dorian was now in a dancing mood and downed each drink quickly, eager to get back onto the dance floor, ignoring Lys’ suggestions that they needed to eat something. Dorian usually won the elf over and dragged him back to dance. By now they both forgone their jackets and ties, loosening their collars. The air in the room was hot and heavy with sweat and alcohol and everyone was having fun. Even Dorian was enjoying himself at a wedding, which seemed like a small miracle.

He spent at least a few hours spinning around the room, most of that time tucked safely into a pair of surprisingly strong, tattooed arms, laughing happily. He no longer cared about the way anyone looked at him, focused solely on the elf’s golden-green eyes.

***

Drink counter: ????

The world felt fuzzy and it swayed when Dorian tried to stand or even sit, so he was laying down instead. Earlier he put two chairs next to each other and now he lied on them, head and back on the seats, his long legs dangling uselessly somewhere further, he wasn’t even sure he could feel them anymore. His face to the ceiling, the view partially obscured by Lys sitting next to Dorian's head with his arm and head resting on the table. Somewhere far away music was playing and people were talking.

But Dorian's head felt heavy and empty, all thoughts had left him, and his gaze turned to a golden band hanging from a leather strap around the elf's neck. He wanted to take a look at it but it seemed so far away and swayed lightly and it was difficult to focus on it.

Without thinking, Dorian reached out and hooked a finger over the gold band, steadying it to take a look. It was small and there was a floral pattern engraved into the metal.

“What's that?” He breathed out, pulling lightly. Lys stirred, making a little sound at the back of his throat, then opened his golden-green eyes.

“What? Oh, that. It’s a ring.”

That made sense. Dorian was entirely satisfied with the answer but Lys continued.

“It belonged to my mother.”

“It’s a small ring.” Dorian announced. It was a small ring - Dorian could only get the tip of his finger into it before it got stuck, not even past the first knuckle.

“That’s why I wear it on my neck, not on my finger. It doesn’t fit me.” Lys explained, slurring a bit. He was smiling lightly at Dorian, who’s attention was focused on the ring as it was just too difficult to think about two things at once.

“Your mom must have small fingers.”

“Yeah, I think she did.”

Dorian let go of the ring and put his hand down, closing his eyes. He needed to get to bed. He heard a rustling of fabric and someone stopped near his legs, blocking out the light, which Dorian didn’t hate. He looked there and spotted Bethany in her gorgeous green dress, a smirk on her face as she looked at him and Lys, a drink in each hand.

“Are you up for another drink?” She asked, raising the glasses slightly. Dorian groaned and Lys sighed heavily, pressing his head into the table. On the other side of the table Varric and Isabela giggled.

“You're tied right now,” That damned dwarf called out. “If one of you manages to drink this one, he wins.”

Dorian liked winning but he liked not throwing up even more. He looked at the elf, who looked just as tired and sick as Dorian.

“Tie is good for me.” He breathed out and Dorian nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, we’re out. You guys poison yourselves without us, thank you very much.”

Bethany booed, then chuckled.

“Wankers. Fine, then I’ll drink this one myself. Anyone want the other one?” She passed one of the glasses to someone on the other side of the table then plopped into the chair next to Dorian’s legs. Lys mumbled something and changed his position, leaning back on the chair, his head thrown back, eyes closed. The five of them sat in silence and Dorian almost fell asleep. He  _ really _ needed to get upstairs to his room and get some beauty sleep.

With a heavy sigh he raised a hand, drawing his friends’ attention.

“Someone help me up to my room.” He demanded weakly. The only response we got was the sound of his friends snickering and giggling at him.

“What? None of you will help me? Come on!”

“Fuck off, Sparkler. Neither of us is planning on getting up anytime soon and for sure not to help you get your heavy ass to bed.”

“My ass is not heavy, you simpleton. It’s plump.” He breathed, turning his gaze onto Bethany. “Bethany will help me, because she’s a good friend and a sweetheart, isn’t that right?”

“Dream on.” The girl simply said, taking a big gulp of her drink. Dorian felt nausea at the sight and grabbed Lys’ elbow.

“Lys, you’re my last hope.”

The elf didn’t even crack one eye open.

“Standing up is too difficult.”

“You’re all so rude to me.” Dorian sighed dramatically, to let his friends know how disappointed in them he was.

“You can just sleep here. That’s what I intend to do.” Lys added.

Well, what other choice did Dorian have? He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

***

When Dorian woke up the next morning, his head felt like it was about to split in half, his mouth was dry and the contents of his stomach were threatening to return the way they came in with every small move.

That’s why he wasn’t amused when someone knocked at his door (or rather pounded) and just groaned, turning to the other side.

“Sparkler! I know you’re there! Open up!” Came Varric’s muffled voice and Dorian sighed heavily, wishing for sweet death’s release. After a few moments he got up, well aware Varric wouldn’t give up. He was stubborn, that one.

Dorian threw a hotel robe on his shoulders and made his way to the door, tripping on some clothes he must’ve discarded to the ground last night.

“How’s your head?” Varric grinned at him the moment Dorian opened the door. The sorry state Pavus was in was a good answer to the question though, so Dorian just sighed, moving to the side, so Varric could enter the room.

“ _ You _ are not taking a chance to talk? Shit, Sparkler, it must be worse than I thought!” He chuckled, plopping in the armchair. Thankfully, Varric wasn’t a monster, so he spoke quietly and held out a bottle of sparkling water to Dorian, who grabbed it and gulped it down in one go, then sat down at his bed.

“Get yourself ready for breakfast, Sparkler. Sunshine wants us to go shopping after that, so shower.” Varric announced, as Dorian groaned.

“You two just want to see me suffer.”

“Maybe.” The dwarf answered as he took in Dorian’s state. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yes, Varric, it’s not the first time I wake up with a hangover. It’ll pass.”

“Any questions regarding last night? What do you remember?”

Good question. Dorian closed his eyes and racked his brain (or what was left of it) for memories of last night. He remembered the first sweet drink he and Lys got - it was orange and had a dried lemon slice in it. Dorian really liked it. He remembered… That when it got hot in the room, Lys took off his jacket and tie, and was left in a white shirt and a dark green vest. He undid one or two buttons of it and tucked up his sleeves, revealing dark brown tattoos curling down his muscled arms, as he laughed at something Isabela said.

Woah, that was a vivid vision but not the last memory he had. He focused for a while longer, then recalled laying on the chairs.

“How did I get to bed? I fell asleep at the table.”

Varric chuckled at him.

“You woke up three hours later and made your way here, with Sunshine’s help, obviously.”

“And now you were sent by her to get me to breakfast?”

“More like to see how you are doing.”

“Well, my trusty dwarf, I’m doing splendid. And how’s Lys? Should I expect a rematch at breakfast?”

Varric’s face became more serious.

“Uh, no. Charms had to leave early. He got a call in the morning. Some family matter, something about his aunt I think? He was shaken and Blondie drove him home a while ago.”

That’s a shame. Dorian was hoping he’d get to see him today and get his number, maybe ask him out for coffee if not for drinks?

Pavus scolded himself internally at that - a man receives bad news and all he can think of is that he maybe wanted to get his number? Selfish.

Dorian shook his head and just managed out: “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

Varric nodded.

“Me too, Sparkler. He’s a good sort. Went through enough already.”

They sat in silence for a moment, then Varric stood up.

“Well, get up. I expect you downstairs in 30 minutes.” The dwarf made his way to the door and stopped with a hand on the handle.

“Oh, and take a look at the photos we took last night. Me and Sunshine sent them to you.” With that he left and Dorian leapt out of the bed to get to his phone.

There were indeed a bunch of new messages from Varric and Bethany, all of them photos. The first few were normal - Dorian, Lys, Varric and Bethany sitting at the table, then some as they stood by the bar, the blighted sweet drinks in their hands.

Then it clearly got wilder. All of them lost some parts of their clothing, hair sticking to their wet with sweat necks as they danced wildly. A few more people showed up on the photos as time progressed, everyone equally plastered (aside from Anders, who was the designated driver), including Isabela, Hawke and Fenris, Bethany’s boyfriend Sebastian and a dark-skinned Dalish girl, who, Dorian remembered, sat next to Lys at the table.

Out of all the crazy photos, Dorian’s favorite was a series of him and Lys dancing. He was quite surprised that he dared to dance at all, but it was probably the mixture of liquid courage and a fetching, crooked smile that got him to. The two of them seemed to be having the time of their lives, twirling around each other, holding hands and laughing. In the last photo, Lys must’ve twirled him around and Dorian ended up with his back pressed into the elf chest, their hands still intertwined. They were both looking to the side as if someone was speaking to them and were cracking up. A few strands of long, blonde hair fell out of Lys’ ponytail and when Dorian looked at them in the photo, his brain supplied him with a not very helpful but very nice memory of those strands of hair brushing against the back of his neck, the smell of sweat, alcohol and herbal cologne attacking his nostrils.

Such a shame Lys had to leave early, and due to some serious reason. If it was any other way, Dorian would try to get his number, but right now it seemed weird (as he would have to go through Varric) and inappropriate (as Lys left due to some serious family situation). But they seemed to have quite a few mutual friends. Maybe they’d get to meet each other again?


	2. Wedding No. 2 - Sera and Dagna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest with y'all, this is the wedding that I want to have.

**from: Sera Redjenn ([beesandflasks@thmail.com](mailto:beesandflasks@gmail.com))**

**to: many**

**received: 01:13 AM, Drakonis 5th, 9:40 Dragon**

**Get ready for a WEDDING**

**Guess who’s getting MARRIED!?!?!?!!1 Suprrise, it’s me and Widdle!!! YEsss, we’re gonna tie the knot and YOU are welcome to see! Come to our house at 2 AM, Cloudreach 10th. Bring booze and food ya like. And come DRESSED UP but not like snotty nobles but in COSTUMES, like it’s a costume party (and there WILL BE A CONTEST FOR BEST OUTFIT). No costume, no entry to our super fun WEDDING.**

**xoxo**

**Sera & Dagna**

Out of all the weddings Dorian expected he’d get to attend, this one came as the biggest surprise. Both the suddenness of it and the fact that Sera, of all people, actually wanted to get married came as a shock but Dorian was thrilled. Honestly, he thought this wedding was going to be a lot of fun - a small group of Sera and Dagna’s friends in their cozy house with a big garden, home made food brought by the guests and probably lots of booze. Of course there was the matter of costumes, which Dorian wasn’t a fan of, but well, it was Sera’s wedding - something had to be completely unconventional and slightly unhinged.

Dorian made his way from the train station to Sera and Dagna’s small, surprisingly rustic house on foot, his costume, a few bottles of wine and a big package of his favorite almond cookies he got at a local bakery weighing down the big, black bag he carried on his shoulder. As he entered through the open gate into the small front yard, he heard a racket indicating some guests already arrived and were helping the brides set the place up. He heard music and laughter, some woman was talking in a stern tone as if she was giving out orders. Of course Sera and Dagna didn’t ask anyone to come and help them, but many of their friends did anyway, as they expected they’d be needed.

Dorian rang the doorbell, wondering who was already here - he suspected Thom was already inside and knew for sure Bull was going to be late as he had to work today. Aside from that, he had no idea who else was even invited to this wedding.

The door swung open and Dorian froze under the gaze of familiar, golden-green eyes that he did not expect to see today. In front of him stood Lys, the Dalish elf he met at Carver’s wedding a few months ago and who Dorian might’ve thought about whenever he opened his phone’s camera roll. Dorian recognized him even though the elf was wearing a black lace mask over his eyes and nose and his long, bright blonde hair wasn't tied in a ponytail like during their initial meeting and instead fell onto his shoulders in waves. Lys was wearing a tight, black costume with long sleeves to which was attached a flowing, colorful fabric that Dorian realized was painted to imitate butterfly wings.

“I hope you have a costume in that bag, otherwise I can’t let you in.” Lys said, smiling at him brightly. Dorian realized he was standing there, staring at the elf without a word and felt himself flush.

“Yes, I know the rules,” Dorian managed out after clearing his throat. “I do have a costume, I just-”

“OI!” They both jumped up as someone yelled at them from above. They turned to look, Lys actually had to take a step out of the house to be able to take a look. Upstairs, Sera was halfway out of the window wearing a bathrobe, her short hair the usual mess. She was staring daggers at Dorian.

“No costume, no admittance!” She yelled, smiling wickedly. Dorian sighed.

“I know, I know! I have it in my bag!” He yelled back, internally praying for his friend to  _ not _ fall out of the window right before her wedding. “I didn’t want to sit in it during the train ride. People would stare at me.”

“Wanker! Normally you’re too happy to have people looking at you and now not?”

“What difference does it make?”

Sera huffed and looked at Lys, who watched the two amused.

“Make sure he changes! Don’t let ‘im outta your sight until then!”

“Will do!” He called back and walked into the house, gesturing for Dorian to follow him. He entered and the sounds of party in the making became even louder. In the kitchen plates and glasses were clinking as someone got them out of the shelfs, in the living room music was playing and few people were talking and a muted conversation came from upstairs, where Dorian suspected the brides were, each in a different room.

“You want to get changed immediately or want something to drink first?” Lys asked turning around to face Dorian, who had a problem with focusing on what the elf was saying when he was watching him from under a lacey, black mask.

“I’ll get changed, ensure Sera doesn’t see me out of the costume. She’s unpredictable on any given day, on her wedding day? I assume she’ll bite the head off of anyone messing with her.”

Lys snorted.

“Good call.”

Silence fell between them for a moment, then Dorian said:

“I didn’t know you know Sera.”

The elf smiled, crossing his hands over his chest and leaning against the wall of the narrow hallway they were standing in.

“Sure I do. I met Dagna first, we used to be neighbors. She and Sera are both the type that once they get attached to you, they don’t let go, so no matter how many times I move, I always end up back here with them.”

Dorian nodded, knowing exactly what Lys was talking about.

“Weird we haven’t met before, then.”

“I do move around a lot, so we must’ve missed each other.”

“Am I to expect a rematch to finally conclude our bet?” Dorian asked, a smirk on his face, but Lys shook his head with a smile.

“I’d love to but I’m the designated driver today. Sorry. Maybe some other time?”

“Sure.” Dorian agreed, a pang of hope rising in his chest at the words. “I’ll go change now.”

“You brought any booze or food? I can take it to the kitchen.”

Dorian passed onto Lys the wine and cookies and disappeared into the small downstairs bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and cursed under his breath - the red tinge of his cheeks was obvious. Dorian sighed, changed into his costume - a loose, black bodysuit with a print of a white skeleton on the front. Then he pulled out the bag with makeup and considered if he should put on something. Initially, he didn’t plan to but then he didn’t know Lys was going to be here. With the new knowledge, a bit of makeup to boost up his natural assets seemed like a good idea, so he started applying foundation, then powder and his favorite highlighter. A bit of black eyeliner on his waterline, some purple, glittering eyeshadow on his eyelids, mascara and one last brush of his hair and he was done and quite satisfied with the effect. With that he grabbed the bag with his things and exited the bathroom, turning to the living, where people were talking and music was playing.

Lys, sadly, wasn’t there, instead Dorian stumbled upon Isabela, Varric, Merrill and Carver. The former two actually seemed to put some thought into their costumes - Isabela was in a full on pirate queen outfit, with high boots, puffy white shirt and a long, blue jacket with golden highlights. She also had probably a few pounds of jewelry on her - necklaces of different sizes dangling on her neck, dozens of glittering bracelets on her wrists and heavy, golden earrings. The whole look was topped off with a big hat with a blue feather sticking out of it.

Varric was a cowboy - wide pants with those long fringes on the sides, a faux-leather jacket and a cowboy hat. And, of course, a shirt opened halfway.

Merrill and Carver on the other hand, looked like they just picked something that could pass as a costume - they were both in onesies, Merrill’s was orange, Carver’s brown. They both had their noses painted, Merrill even had whiskers drawn on. And they both had hair bands with animal ears - Merrill’s were cat and Carver’s dog ears.

“Sparkler, there you are! And you’re actually sparkling today!”

“Hi, Varric, hi everyone!” Dorian waived and plopped into the big armchair. “What time is it? When does the ceremony start?”

Isabela chuckled.

“Whenever the brides are ready. We got here a few hours ago and helped set up everything, you’re lucky you missed it. Lady Aeducan ordered us around with no remorse or mercy for our backs.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t catch an earlier train. Who’s lady Aeducan?”

Carver almost leapt out of his seat.

“Mora Aeducan?” He said in a voice that indicated that Dorian should know who he’s talking about. The last name rang a bell but Dorian couldn’t place it. “Mora Aeducan, sister of the king of Orzammar, living legend of the Grey Wardens?”

Dorian shook his head.

“The royal family of Orzammar I’ve heard of, but I don’t really keep up with sports news, sorry.”

Carver threw his hands up with a heavy sigh. Merrill giggled.

“Forgive Carver, he’s starstruck.”

“He’s been following Aeducan like a puppy since he got here.” Isabela added.

“How does Sera know her?”

“She’s Dagna’s friend.” Varric answered, then smiled wickedly. “Speaking of friends, I assume you saw Charms already?”

Isabela snickered at that, while Merrill and Carver seemed out of the gossip loop. The elf turned to Dorian with an excited smile on her face. 

“Right, you met Lysanen on our wedding, right? Isn’t he just great? And he’s a good dancer! He also sings very prettily, but he knows mostly Dalish songs. You should ask him to sing to you sometime, you’ll see.”

Dorian was no longer sure if she really was out of the gossip loop or was she having him on.

“Ah, of course. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Isabela and Varric were a bit red from choking down laughter and Merrill and Carver both seemed confused at that.

“What? What are you laughing at?”

Dorian was saved by quick, heavy footsteps on the stairs. They all turned to look at the door, when a red-haired, dwarven woman with tattoos on her face walked in, a big, toothy smile on her face. She was wearing a short, orange dress and big, fake glasses in heavy, black frames. Dorian assumed it was the famous lady Aeducan based on the fact that Carver jumped at attention the moment he spotted her.

“Are y’all ready for a wedding?” She asked. Everyone cheered in agreement and the smile on her face grew. “Then everyone to the backyard! Now!” She ushered them and they filed out of the house.

The garden was big and here and there grew flowers, bushes and tree fruits, some of them already with flower buds on their branches. On the terrace stood tables - on some stood bowls and plates of food, on others snacks (including Dorian’s almond cookies) and a few were dedicated to alcohol and colorful paper cups.

Aeducan told everyone that they could stand whenever they wanted, just leave the middle of the garden free. Aside from the group Dorian sat with in the living room, there were only a few other guests - two of Sera’s coworkers, Charade and Johi, Krem Aclassi, and a tall, red-haired woman with glinting, bright blue eyes, wearing a purple dress, bright pink stockings and a green scarf who took a place in the middle of the garden. Dorian realized she must be the person who will be officiating the wedding. After her, showed up Thom Rainier, Sera’s best friend, wearing cheap, plastic armor, and went to stand next to the red-haired woman - he was going to be Sera’s best man. Then Lys showed up and walked up to lady Aeducan, whispering something into her ear. She nodded and went to stand near the red-haired woman.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” She called out, drawing everyone’s attention to her. She smiled at them charmingly and waved her hands towards the door. “Here comes bride number one!”

Everyone clapped and cheered as Sera jumped through the door, grinning wildly. She was wearing, of course, a bee costume, antennae included. She stopped in the middle of the garden and turned to look at the door. After a few moments, Aeducan announced:

“Get ready for… Bride number two!”

Dagna walked through the door and once again, everyone cheered. Sera started laughing, clapping and yelling: “Widdle, you look super good!”

Dagna was wearing a grey dress with a hood in the shape of a shark’s head pulled over her head. She was looking at Sera and Sera alone, beaming with happiness and pride. She walked up to her and grabbed the elf’s hands, staring dreamily into her eyes. If it was a movie, Dorian would’ve cringed at the syrupy couple staring into each other's eyes but since this was real and the syrupy couple consisted of his friends, he just smiled brightly.

“Dearly beloved,” Red-haired woman called, “We are gathered here today to witness these two women enter a marriage. I will not ask if there’s someone who has any objections, because none of us cares to hear them. I will not ask them to speak their vows because as we all know they’d both probably burst into tears or giggles and no one would understand anything. Instead, I will get down to business. Sera, do you take Dagna to be your lawfully wedded wife and swear to be by her side in sickness and in health, to love and cherish her until death does you apart?”

Sera nodded vigorously, barely stammering out an “I do” through fits of hysterical giggles. The officiant continued.

“Dagna, do you take Sera to be your lawfully wedded wife and swear to be by her side in sickness and in health, to love and cherish her until death does you apart?”

“I do!” Dagna said, her eyes not once leaving Sera’s face.

“Then through the power vested in me, I pronounce you wife and wife! You may kiss the wife!”

Sera leaned down and kissed Dagna, while everyone cheered. Dorian had to blink rapidly to try and get the tears from falling from his eyes onto his cheeks, while Isabela yelled “YEAH! GO, YOU CRAZY LESBIANS!” next to him over and over again. Once the brides parted, both teary-eyed and laughing, some guests started throwing confetti at them and music blasted from speakers standing on the terrace.

“It’s party time!” Sera yelled and grabbed Dagna, spinning her around. People around Dorian started pairing up and dancing. He turned to Isabela, but she was already gone, tucked into Charade’s arms. Then Lys walked into his line of view, looking at Dorian with a smile. He bowed overdramatically and held out his hand.

“May I have this dance?” He asked and Dorian couldn’t help but laugh, grasping the elf’s hand.

“I’d be honored.”

Lys drew him closer, resting one hand on Dorian’s waist and spun them around, leading him towards other dancers. Dorian didn’t recognize the song but it was fast and fun, easy to dance to. Lys lead, leaving Dorian to hold onto his shoulder and try not to burst into flames under the heavy gaze of his dance partner, his situation only made worse by the completely unnecessary and far too hot black lace mask.

He wasn’t sure how long they danced, but it must've been a while and at some point Dorian felt weariness creeping in, his breath growing heavier. Lys spun him around to the last notes of the song, then gave him a once-over.

“You wanna get some rest?” He asked, his breath also laboured. Dorian nodded 

“Yes, let’s do. We can sit on the side and drink, while I critique everyone’s costumes.”

“What’s wrong with their costumes? Aside from Carver and Merrill’s, of course.”

“Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”

Lys chuckled.

“You’re right. First things first.”

They made their way towards the table with drinks, while most of the guests were still dancing. Pavus smiled and looked at Lys.

“I know you don’t drink today, but maybe you can once again suggest some proper alcohol? You did well last time.”

Lys chuckled.

“Did I? I shouldn’t have gotten us drinking sweet drinks, maybe the hangover the next morning wouldn’t have been so awful.”

“Ah, I probably would’ve gotten drunk on them myself.”

“Really? You seem more like a wine guy.”

“That’s… not wrong. But how do you know?”

Lys winked at Dorian and even though he was so warmed up by the dancing, he felt warmth flooding his chest.

“Call it a bartender’s sixth sense. I may no longer be one but it didn’t leave me.”

“So why weren’t we drinking wine last time?”

“We were. You don’t remember? There was this bottle of rosé we drank after dancing Macarena…”

Dorian groaned.

“Don’t remind me of how I embarrassed myself.”

Lys giggled.

“Don’t say that, it was fun! And that’s the only thing that matters. But back to the drink - what kind of liquor would you like?”

“Hm… You know, a glass of wine would be nice.”

Lys nodded and turned to the table, gazing at the bottles and worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Dorian’s sight caught onto that small movement and only then did he notice a small scar in the shape of the letter Y on the elf’s lip. For a moment he considered what it would be like to touch this scar, how would it feel under Dorian’s own lips, under his tongue-

“How about this one?” Lys asked nonchalantly, pulling Dorian out of his thoughts and back to reality. He blinked a few times and looked at the bottle the elf was holding. He didn’t recognize the name on the label but nodded.

“I trust you not to poison me.”

“You have such faith in me.” Lys breathed out, opening the bottle as Dorian searched for a glass. Once Dorian got his wine and Lys found himself some soda, they sat at the edge of the terrace. The elf reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering it to Dorian.

“No, thank you, I’m focusing on destroying my liver, not my lungs.”

“Good call.” The elf smirked, then pulled one for himself and lit it. Usually Dorian found the whole idea of cigarettes entirely unappealing but there was just something incredibly attractive about the smoke curling around Lys’ flushed face, partially hidden behind the lace mask.

“Okay, I have to ask,” Dorian spoke up after a moment. “Why the mask?”

Lys chuckled.

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Well, I’m not saying that. I’m just wondering why you felt the need to put on a mask while dressed as a butterfly.”

“Consider it my aunt’s artistic choice. She made me this costume when I was in college I think? Or maybe it was late high school? No matter, something around then. She handed me the costume and the mask, saying, and I quote:  _ You’ll be a sexy, mysterious butterfly, not just some butterfly. You have to have something going for you _ .”

Dorian huffed out a laugh.

“Ouch. A bit of a burn there.”

“A wonderful woman, my aunt. The funniest person I know.”

Dorian creased his forehead as some forgotten memory wormed its way to the top.

“Is that the aunt… Varric said you left Carver’s wedding due to something happening to your aunt? Is that the one?”

Lys looked at Dorian surprised.

“I didn’t think you’d remember that. But yeah, that’s the same aunt. I got a call that morning that she had some breathing problems and they had to take her to the hospital. She spent a few weeks there but ultimately she was fine. That’s why I’m smoking again, though. I quit a few years back but I keep going back when life gets stressful.”

“An awful habit but understandable.” Dorian commented. Lys nodded in agreement, then turned to look at the people dancing around the garden.

“So, with whom shall we start your critique?” He asked. Dorian smirked.

“Why, with you of course! In my expert opinion, the costume’s pretty good - extra points for it being handmade. But the shirt is clearly a bit too small for you, as the sleeves are too short and the hem of it rides up your stomach.”  _ Which I don’t hate _ .

Lys laughed, amused.

“I told you I’ve had it for years.”

“And there’s this mask. It is mysterious and sexy but does it fit the whole costume? I’m afraid it doesn’t.”

“Oh, you’re talking? Your costume isn't much better than Merrill and Carver’s.

Dorian gasped theatrically.

“How dare you! At least I got a costume from an appropriate shop - these two are wearing their pyjamas! And I’d say I put a bit more work and thought into my makeup.”

“Hey! I painted their noses!” Lys half-yelled, half-laughed. “But only because they  _ did  _ show up here just in onesies.”

“And I made my makeup myself! So you admit I put more thought into it!” Dorian called, a smile on his face. Lys huffed but he was grinning.

“Alright, who else? Isabela? Her outfit’s pretty good.”

“But why isn’t she wearing any pants?”

“Have you met Isabela?”

“It’s not about personal preferences but about the integrity of the costume! I’d say a proper part of tight pants would make it even better but she’s my favorite.”

“Oh, and here I thought I was your favorite.” Lys pouted, laughing when Dorian rolled his eyes at him.

“Varric’s costume is pretty good too, though why he feels the need to always have his shirt half-open is beyond me. But I’m glad he’s not wearing a sheriff’s badge.”

Lys snorted, putting out his cigarette.

“Sera would not let him in while wearing anything associated with law enforcement.”

“Good.” Dorian said, his eyes catching on Charade. “There - a tight leotard costume and cat ears. I can get behind a look like that. Does she… Look, she even has a tail! And her eyeliner looks amazing, I have to ask what brand she uses.”

“And Rainier?” Lys asked. Dorian sighed heavily when his eyes fell onto the bearded man - his plastic armor was falling off of him and dented in a few places, his hair falling out of a bun on the back of his head.

“Don’t even get me started on Blackwall there, unless you want to sit here the whole night.”

“Wow.” Lys breathed and Dorian was about to explain that as much as he liked Blackwall, Thom’s style was something straight out of a nightmare for him but the elf grabbed his shoulder.

“How about this fairy god-mother there?” He asked and Dorian turned around and opened his mouth to say something but all words left him when he spotted the Iron Bull.

The huge, gray-skinned Qunari was twice as wide as Dorian on a normal day, but right then and there, he seemed even bigger. The effect was achieved thanks to the huge, bright pink organza dress with a wide skirt and short, puffy sleeves he was wearing.

Dorian wanted to ask “What in the Void are you wearing!?” but didn’t manage to make a sound, instead he just stared at Bull in shock, his mouth agape.

Sera was the first one to make a comment - she spotted Bull from the other side of the garden and froze, staring at him.

“BULL! You look so good!” She yelled, then a deep, uncontrollable laughter erupted out of her. She leaned forward, one hand on her stomach, the other smacking her thigh. Her laughter drew everyone else’s attention. When they noticed Bull in his huge, pink dress, grinning widely at Sera, some started laughing and Krem began to whoop. Then everyone began to cheer loudly and Bull only encouraged them, flexing his arms and turning around to reveal two small wings on his back.

Sera ran up to him and raised his hand.

“Here’s the winner of the best costume contest!”

No one seemed to be bothered by that loss and people clapped and cheered for the Bull. Dagna ran up to him and handed him a bottle with a big ribbon tied around the neck.

“YEAH!” He roared, raising the bottle into the air.

Once the ruckus calmed down and most people went back to dancing or talking among themselves and Bull turned to Sera and Dagna to congratulate them and apologize for not being able to come earlier, Dorian turned back to Lavellan, whose face was red and a bit wet from the tears.

“And here I thought there was nothing else that Bull could do to surprise me.” Pavus sighed, grinning at Lys.

“I never thought I’d get to see a Qunari with tiny little wings. And that dress!”

“This one always had a thing for pink.” Dorian admitted, pulling out a pack of tissues out of his pocket and handing it to the elf.

“Thanks.” He sighed. “You know him?”

“Yes, that’s the Iron Bull, or just Bull, if you will. A friend.”

Lys nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but then the red-haired woman who officiated the wedding walked up to them, a warm smile on her face.

“Can I steal Lys away for a moment?” She asked, looking from Dorian to the elf.

“As long as you promise to return him.” Dorian smirked at Lys, who smiled back at him. The woman seemed to consider it for a moment.

“We’ll see about that. I’m rather attached to this particular Dalish.”

“Do I not have a say in this?” Lys sighed, standing up. “You two will just fight over me among yourselves?”

“Maybe so.” The woman grinned wickedly, then looped their arms together and dragged Lys away. As Dorian sat there, left behind and drinking in peace, a big palm clapped his shoulder and Bull spoke near his ear:

“What are you drinking, Vint?”

Dorian sighed.

“Wine, Bull. But I’m sure there’s something stronger here for you.”

“Gotta be.” The Qunari leaned over the table behind Dorian and began perusing the bottles. Dorian took another look at his dress and asked the two questions that came to his mind:

“Where did you get a dress like that this size? And did you ride in the train in this?”

Bull chuckled, though when he did that, it sounded more like a rumble.

“Dalish made it for me on a dare a few years back. And I drove here in my car. About that, wanna drive with me tomorrow?”

“Sure, thanks.”

“So, who’s that elf you were getting cozy with? Hopin’ to tap that?”

Dorian choked on his wine.

“Ah, so you are. Hey, I don’t judge! He’s hot. A bit of a leap between me and him, but I never really figured out your type.”

Dorian groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Bull, that was years ago. I dated many guys after you. Stop trying to compare them to yourself.”

“I don’t have to compare, I know none of them has the same  _ assets _ I do.”

“You’re horrible.”

“So you say.” Bull grinned and Dorian shook his head, but he was smiling lightly.

“Everyone, come here!” Someone called and Dorian and Bull went out further into the garden and into the small crowd gathered under one of the tall fruit trees growing there. From one of the branches hung something that looked like a big face of a man with a long beard and in a crown on his head.

Lys’ red-haired friends stood nearby, holding lady Aeducan’s hand.

“Any guesses, as to what is hanging here? She asked.

“A pinata!” Bull yelled and the officiant, who apparently doubled as the emcee, nodded.

“Indeed.”

“Painted by yours truly.” Aeducan called out, a smirk on her face. Something told Dorian she based it on someone she knew.

“Now it’s time for a small contest! We’ll cover the brides’ eyes and they'll both get a stick. The rest of you will be split into two teams, one helping Sera get to the target, the other Dagna. The one who destroys the pinata first, wins and gets the sweets! But not hits,  _ destroys _ .” Leliana accented the last word and a few people chuckled.

“It wouldn't be Sera’s party if she didn’t get to hit something real hard.” Bull said, causing Dorian to snort in laughter.

“Better move as far back as we can.” He said.

Leliana divided the guests into two five-person groups and she herself stayed neutral as a judge. Dorian, Bull, Thom, Krem and Johi were on Sera’s team, the rest, including Lys, were helping Dagna. They moved to different sides of the garden, as Lys and Thom showed up, each of them leading one of the brides. Their eyes were covered, they got the sticks and were spun in place, to get them even more lost. And then the chaos began.

It was really good that Sera and Dagna lived pretty much in the middle of nowhere, since if they had any neighbors, their relationship with them would’ve been forever ruined by the noise they made during this game. Sera and Dagna, blindfolded, spun around the garden, swinging their sticks, laughing maniacally, while their friends yelled “A bit forward Dagna!”, “Wrong way, Sera!”, “No, to the right! THE OTHER RIGHT!”. The moment any of them got closer to the pinata, the noise became unbearable but everyone still screamed, competition getting to them. At one point Dagna was really close, she actually hit the pinata twice, but not strongly enough for it to fall apart. Then Sera walked up to the swinging pinata, while Dagna lost it and raised the stick above her head.

“YELL WHEN TO HIT!” She called and after a few tense moments, her group roared out “NOW!” and she brought the stick down with a terrifying speed and might, hitting the paper-mache head right in the middle. The material gave in and fell apart, sweets falling out of it. Her team yelled in delight and they leapt forward to gather the sweets, while Bull was trying to get the stick away from Sera.

The sweets gathered from the ground, most people went back to dancing, while Dorian decided to get another glass of wine to moisturize his aching throat.

“Congratulations on the win.” He heard Lys say and the elf appeared next to him, a bottle of water in his hand. It was weird how stealthily he could move, suddenly just appearing out of thin air.

“I finally managed to win with you at something.” Dorian announced, chest puffed out.

Lys grinned.

“I don’t think you can count this into the score of our last bet.”

Dorian shrugged, a smirk on his face.

“Still, I won. How does it feel to lose to an evil Tevinter? Two even, if you count Krem.”

“Well, I certainly won’t be mentioning this to my grandmother. She’d made me find you and beat you in something else twice over.”

“So eager to stick it to the humans?”

Lys shrugged with a small smile.

“It's a common trait among the Dalish. Just as insolence among Vints.”

Dorian chuckled, digging out the sweets he just won from his pockets.

“You’re not wrong. But unlike my countrymen, I’m also gracious and generous, so here, pick something.” 

“How sweet of you.” Lys said and grabbed a candy bar, immediately biting into it. Once he was done, he looked at their friends dancing around the garden.

“I’m getting back there, I promised Dagna a dance. You coming along?”

“Naturally.” Dorian linked their arms and they went back into the garden. Even though Lys owed Dagna a dance, he stayed with Dorian for quite a while. It was as if they were back at Carver’s wedding, happily twirling around to the music. Dorian was actually having even more fun than he did those couple of months back, as he wasn’t surrounded by the upper-class of Kirkwall giving him and his dance partner dirty looks but by people he knew, people Sera and Dagna trusted and cared for - and these two only befriended people worth their affections. There were no weird looks, no whispered insults, just him and Lys and their friends having fun, dancing, singing and drinking.

At some point Dagna walked up to them and Lys sent Dorian a smile, then left with the girl, both giggling as they tried to find a way for them to dance somewhat comfortably. Pavus didn’t stay alone for long, as he was quickly swooped up by Isabela, clearly tipsy and having the time of her life. She led them around the garden, jumping up to some quick, Fereldan folk melody, then had them join a bigger circle of dancers.

After at least an hour (and a dozen of fast, jumpy folk songs from all around Thedas), Dorian felt a bit dizzy and very tired, so he decided to take a breather and maybe fix his makeup a bit. When he entered the living room to grab his bag, the sudden change of atmosphere hit him like a punch to the face. He took a look around the room and noticed lady Aeducan, clearly much paler than she should be after a few hours of intense party. She was sitting on the sofa, drinking water, while her partner sat in front of her on the coffee table, her expression soft and worried. Lys stood near the garden door, wearing a long, oversized green coat, car keys in one hand, two coats in the other.

“You’re leaving already?” Dorian asked. The question was mostly aimed at Lys but since the room was small, everyone heard him. Lady Aeducan stopped drinking and sent him a warm, tired smile.

“Yes. I’m not feeling very well, so we’ll go. A shame, I hoped at least today I’d get some rest from…” She didn’t finish, a few wet coughs leaving her lungs instead of words. She hit her chest lightly a few times and Dorian realized the weariness wasn’t caused by dancing and drinking but some underlying sickness.

Lys turned to Dorian with a small smile.

“I have to drive Leliana and Mora home. Told you I’m the designated driver.”

“So you did.” Dorian sighed.

_ Ask him for his number. Ask him! Now, while you can! _ A voice called in the back of his mind. And he really wanted to but just as he was about to open his mouth, a medley of all his failed relationship and unsatisfying affairs flashed before his eyes and fear clenched his heart. Lys was so warm, so joyful and sweet. Dorian loved stumbling into him and dancing and drinking with Lys. And even though he wanted to see the elf more often, he couldn’t get the words out of his throat. Should he risk it? Should he risk that once they started seeing each other more often, they’d learn they didn’t really like each other that much? Dorian was well aware he had issues that he needed to work through and that they always weighed down his relationships. He didn’t want to subject Lys to that. He didn’t want to see this warm, kind elf grow more and more annoyed with Dorian, which eventually happened in all of Dorian’s relationships, as he, consciously or not, sabotaged them and let them fall apart before they became too serious. Why not just leave it as it is? Occasional, dream-like meetings Dorian could look forward to without having to put in the work. But was this really what Dorian wanted?

Aeducan and her partner stood up, both sending Dorian warm smiles.

The moment passed.

“See you around.”

“I’m sure.” He said, bowing his head lightly at the women. They went past him and Dorian turned to Lys.

The elf took in a breath as if to say something, but Dorian, by accident and completely unintentionally, beat him to it and spoke up first.

“I guess I’ll see you at some other wedding, huh?”

Lys closed his mouth and his eyes searched Dorian’s face for a moment. Then he nodded, sending Dorian a smile that didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes.

“Most likely. Take care, Dorian.”

And with that he was off. Dorian watched his retreating back for a moment and couldn’t shake the feeling he just made a mistake.


	3. Wedding No. 3 - Bethany and Sebastian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: lyrium addiction mentioned at the beginning of this chapter!

_**Bethany Hawke** _

_**&** _

_**Sebastian Vael** _

_**request the honor of your company** _

_**at the celebration of their union** _

_**Harvestmere 5th, 9:40 Dragon** _

_**at 2 o’clock in the afternoon** _

_**Ceremony will take place at the Starkhaven Chantry** _

_**Reception to follow at the Rose Of Orlais Hotel Club** _

  
  


Dorian loved Bethany dearly but if he was being honest with himself, there was no way her wedding would beat the chaotic craziness of Sera and Dagna’s party. Still, Dorian was excited for this wedding, a few things adding to the anticipation and making him giddy.

First of all, the wedding party wasn’t going to be as boring and stiff as Carver’s wedding, thanks to Bethany and Sebastian’s very wise choice to exclude their parents out of any planning. How did they manage that? Well, by simply not telling anyone about their engagement until they planned out the whole thing. They only announced the good news last month, giving out wedding invitations along. Everything was planned, ordered and paid for and their parents couldn’t change anything without paying horrendous fees written into all the contracts. They weren’t thrilled about it but backed into the corner, they could just smile and congratulate their children. The wedding still wasn’t going to be as small as Sera’s, but was definitely more personal and private than Carver’s. 120 guests, a dinner, open bar, dance floor and a DJ playing a playlist chosen by the bride and groom. For Dorian that meant the wedding would be much more fun and there’d be more people he knew.

Second of all, Dorian was going to a  _ wedding _ . On all the previous weddings he attended (so two, but still), Dorian met a certain handsome Dalish and he was hoping that would happen again.

Dorian chickened out last time and didn’t ask for Lys’ number, a fact he regretted constantly since then. Thrice he picked up his phone in the following months, ready to call Varric and ask him for the elf’s number or at least to pass onto him Dorian’s but everytime he hung up before the dwarf picked up, worried he’d come off as creepy or intrusive, self-doubt and self-esteem issues creeping up on him and thwarting his bravery. So when Bethany dropped by to give him the invitation, Dorian rejoiced. Of course he was thrilled for Bethany and Sebastian, but the thing that really got him was the hope of seeing Lys again. This time he wouldn’t chicken out. He’d walk up to the elf, apologize for acting weirdly before he left Sera’s party and simply say that he likes Lys a lot and would like to get a drink with him, not necessarily at a wedding, if Lys would be interested.

Dorian decided not to attend the ceremony at the Chantry. He knew it was the most important part of the day for the newlyweds but southern Chantries gave him, as Sera called it, the heebie jeebies and after visiting a southern Chantry once during his college years, he didn’t want to step a foot there again. Instead, Dorian arrived at the Rose Of Orlais Hotel at 12.45 PM and made his way inside the room where some guests were already mingling, though there weren’t many of them there yet. Most people were at the Chantry with the bride and groom.

The situation was eerily similar to the situation from almost a year ago (has it really been almost a year?), from Carver’s wedding. In hopes to replicate that experience as best as he could, Dorian made his way straight (gayly?) to a table where stood already poured glasses of wine. He picked up a promising looking rosé and sipped, turning to face the room slowly filling up with guests, his eyes darting around the room in search of a head of bright blonde hair and a striking smile.

He stood there for a good 10 minutes before something happened.

“Dorian.” Someone said. It was a male voice but the lack of an accent indicated it did not belong to the person he was hoping to see. Dorian turned his head to the side and his eyes fell on Cullen Rutherford standing nearby but at a distance that showed he didn’t want to intrude. Surprise washed over Dorian, who now turned fully to face Cullen.

“Cullen. Hi.” He said. The blonde gave him a shy smile, awkwardly rubbing at his neck. He, Dorian and Bethany knew each other during college but after they graduated, Cullen couldn’t find a job and ended up becoming, it was sad to say really, a cop. After that they fell out of touch and Dorian only heard about him a few years later. Apparently Cullen went undercover and in a sad turn of events, ended up addicted to lyrium. Kirkwall police kicked him out but Cullen didn’t give up then and went to rehab. It must’ve gone well, since Cullen looked pretty much the same as he did back in college. The only change Dorian noticed was a small scar on his upper lip.

“Hi. I, uh. It’s good to see you. You-You look good.”

“Thank you. So do you! Are you doing well?”

“Yes, very good, thank you. I assume you’ve heard what happened…”

Dorian nodded lightly, unsure of how he should act and what this interaction even entailed.

“Yeah, thought so. Everyone did. I wanted to say that after KPD kicked me out, I realized what a jerk I was. I shouldn't have… Well, I wished to apologize. You don’t have to forgive me anything I said to you back then but just know I am very sorry. I’m working on myself and I’ve changed since then. So… yeah.”

Well, that was a surprise but a very pleasant one. Dorian and Cullen were actually good friends back in college but after all the propaganda fed to Cullen, he became very distrustful and short-tempered. The two of them fought a few times and Cullen did in fact say some nasty things. They stopped talking after that and Dorian never would’ve thought he’d ever hear any apologies for that. Yet here Cullen was, apologizing and seemingly really ashamed, really changed.

So Dorian decided to bury the hatchet and get back an old friend. He smiled graciously at Cullen.  
“It’s fine. I’ve long forgotten all about it. I’m glad you’re back and that you’re doing better. I’ll even admit to missing you a bit.”

Cullen seemed thrilled, his cheeks turning pink.

“That’s, ah… Thank you, Dorian. I missed you too. We should meet up for chess one of these days.”

“We certainly should! So, if you’re no longer a pig - I mean a cop, sorry, force of habit. If you’re no longer a cop, what do you do?”

Cullen chuckled at Dorian’s slip.

“Don’t worry, it’s entirely justifiable. And I actually work at a rehab centre. I help people struggling with lyrium addiction, talk to them, try to motivate and understand them. I also help with the menial stuff - cleaning, cooking. It’s a good, honest job and I’m actually helping people this time.”

“Cullen that… sounds wonderful. You’ve really come a long way.” Dorian said, a proud smile on his face. It was actually really touching to see his old friend doing better after what life served him and he was genuinely proud of the man.

“What do you do? Bethany told me you moved out of Kirkwall.”

“Yes, I have. I live in Markham now. Work at the university there. It’s very respectable and we get enough grants for many crazy scientists to do their little villainous experiments.”

“So you’re not in a hurry to get back to Tevinter?” Cullen asked and Dorian stilled for a moment. No, he was certainly not planning on going back to the Imperium anytime soon.

“I’ll tell you a secret - I’ve actually grown to enjoy the Free Marches. I rather like the people here. But you didn’t hear it from me, I have a reputation to uphold.”

Cullen grinned.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“I assume you’ve spoken with Bethany before me? That’s how you’re here?” Dorian asked, genuinely curious. Cullen nodded.

“Yes, I met her by accident a while ago and we got to talking. I apologized to her as well and she was also gracious enough to forgive me my transgressions. And in the end she invited me to the wedding. It was really sweet of her.”

“That’s our Bethany, sweet as a peach.”

A silence fell between them for a moment but it was a comfortable, nice quiet that reminded Dorian of all the times the two of them pulled all-nighters in the university’s library over their years in college.

“Ah, how about I give you my number?” Dorian proposed, breaking the silence. “That way you can call and we can set up that chess game. If I recall correctly, I won the last time.”

Cullen practically beamed and handed Dorian his phone. Pavus wrote his number under a new contact and handed it back.

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll call you tomorrow evening?”

Dorian nodded.

“Can’t wait.”

“I’ll go for now, I need to speak to someone else as well, but I’ll see you later.”

Cullen left and Dorian was left by the drink table a bit dazed and pleasantly surprised. He didn’t expect anything like that to happen to him today - or any other day, for that matter - but it felt really good. Until Dorian saw Cullen, he didn’t really realize how much he actually missed his old friend.

He was still going over the conversation in his head when the emcee announced the entrance of the newlyweds. Dorian focused on them, all thoughts of Cullen and Lys buzzing in his head leaving him when he noticed Bethany. She was wearing a stunning, simplistic white gown with wide shoulder straps and a low cut in the front. Her hair was in a high updo at the back of her head, a single, long necklace hanging around her neck and falling down her cleavage. Dorian helped her pick it all and yet he was surprised to see the end result - it exceeded all expectations.

He cheered and clapped for them as they entered the room, then walked up to them to congratulate. Bethany was smiling so much he thought her face was about to split in half but the bright, honest smile looked so good on her petite face. Sebastian, wearing a traditional Starkhaven kilt in his family’s colours (red and black) and an elegant, black jacket also looked very handsome and was smiling just as brightly as his wife. Dorian walked up to them and Bethany threw her arms around his neck.

“Ah, Dorian! I’m a married woman! A wife! Can you imagine?” She laughed into his ear and Dorian began laughing with her, hugging her tightly.

“I don’t think it sunk in yet!” He answered, still not letting her go.

“Same here. Thank you so much for your help with organization again! Gosh, I hope you’ll have fun tonight. Promise me you'll at least try to have fun!” She pulled back but didn’t let go of his neck, looking into his face with determination. Dorian chuckled.

“Today your wish is my command, Bethany.”

Her bright smile turned into a mischievous smirk and she winked.

“I think you’ll find wonderful people here today to keep you company.”

Suspicion and hope flooded Dorian’s chest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked but Bethany just laughed, shaking her head and untangling herself from him.

“I’m sure you’ll see. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Once there isn’t a queue behind you.”

“Reserve a dance for me!” Dorian called to her and took a few steps to the side, elbowing his way through the crowd swarming around the newlyweds to the groom. Once there, he hugged Sebastian, congratulating him and complimenting his outfit.

Once everyone got their fill of Bethany and Sebastian, dinner was served. Dorian, one of the best friends of the bride, got to sit at the head table, near Bethany. He ate and spoke a bit with Fenris, Anders and the still crying eldest Hawke sitting near him but his eyes kept darting around the room, scanning other tables in search of Lys. The more time passed, the more worried Dorian was, as he couldn’t spot him. Bethany’s words made him think he’d be here somewhere - she did, after all, bring Lys up every now and then when they spoke, casually mentioning something she heard about him or asking if Dorian maybe saw him recently? But for now, there was no sign of Lys anywhere, which made Dorian worried and he began to impatiently rock his foot under the table.

Those feelings passed for a while during the first dance, when his attention was fully drawn to Bethany, who looked so happy and so in love. But once other people began joining the newlyweds on the dance floor, Dorian instead made his way towards the bar. As he was elbowing his way through the crowd, he heard someone call his name. He whipped around, his eyes catching on every blonde in the crowd but none of them was the person he was looking for. But there it was again, someone calling him and then someone waving and Dorian’s eyes went wide when he spotted who it was.

“Josephine Montilyet!” He called, unsure of why he used his cousin’s last name but not caring much. There she was, standing in a very elegant, purple dress with her hair in a braid running around her head and with golden makeup, looking like some sort of goddess. She was waving at him and when he began making her way towards him, she did the same and they met in the middle, wrapping arms around each other. Dorian could smell Josephine’s expensive perfume, similar to the one he remembered her mother, his aunt using, her embrace warm and familiar.

“My dearest Josephine, it’s wonderful to see you! I didn’t know you’d be here!” He said when they finally parted but were still standing close, looking into each other’s faces.

Dorian always liked Josephine and he felt guilty because he didn’t really keep in touch with her aside from an occasional phone call around birthdays and Satinalia. It was a shame, really, as Josephine was a kind, resourceful and sweet person who Dorian always admired. It was so good to see her here, today. They’d finally have a chance to talk and catch up. Maybe after that, he’d feel compelled to spend more time with her?

“And I  _ did _ know you’d be here but I forgot to call and let you know! Since we’re in the same city, maybe we could have lunch someday?”

“I’d love that!” Dorian said, smiling brightly at his cousin. First Cullen, now her - it’s as if fate was throwing him in front of people and saying “missed your chance here, maybe try again?”. It bode well for his meeting with Lys.

“How do you know the newlyweds?” Dorian asked, big smile on his face as he stood there with his favorite cousin, happiness and hope warming his chest. 

“I’ve been friends with Sebastian for years.” Josephine answered, waving her hand dismissively. “We met at summer camp when we were teenagers and we’ve been penpals since then. I was so happy to find a wedding invitation in the last letter!”

“I had no idea. What a small world!”

Josephine giggled at that.

“Well, my dear cousin, we simply must catch up. How about I find you in a moment so we can talk?”

“Of course! Oh, and I’ll introduce you to someone.” Josephine said, a smirk on her lips. Dorian's eyebrows traveled up his forehead, a corner of his lips turning up.

“Josephine, are you saying you have a plus one?” 

“Maybe. Who knows?”

“Oh, you do! Well, that just got ten times more interesting? How serious is it?”

“Not very serious. It’s rather fresh. He’s a coworker from my new job.” Josephine said, blushing slightly. Dorian chuckled at that.

“And yet you’re blushing. Well, that’s just wonderful. I can’t wait to meet him. But if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’m actually looking for someone. I’ll find you in a bit, alright?” Dorian asked, remembering what he was doing before he spotted his cousin. Josephine nodded.

“Of course. And I was actually planning on getting us drinks, so I’ll do that and I’ll see you later.”

Dorian leaned in and pressed a kiss to Josephine’s cheek, then left her near the bar and made two rounds around the room but he still didn’t see the blonde elf anywhere. A bit desperate, Dorian spotted Varric and went to him. If anyone knew if Lys was here and if so, where, it was this nosy dwarf.

“Sparkler! What a beautiful wedding, huh? Our Sunshine, a married woman!” Varric sighed heavily, blinking rapidly as if not to cry, his eyes trained on Bethany on the dance floor. Dorian smiled at this sight.

“Indeed. It feels… odd, though not necessarily in a bad way. It’ll just take some time to adjust to.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Ah, but she looks so happy. Choir Boy is a lucky man and he knows that if he ever hurts her, he probably won’t survive that.”

Dorian scoffed.

“Won’t survive what, you writing about him negatively in one of your books?”

“What? Oh, no, I wasn’t talking about myself but about Hawke, Anders and Fenris. They’ll rip out his heart if something happens to Sunshine.”

_ That _ was a real threat and something Dorian could see actually keeping Sebastian from straying from the path of a perfect husband, but really, the way he looked at Bethany, with such love and devotion, made Dorian think he didn’t really need any threats to keep worshipping the ground his wife walked on.

But that was not what Dorian wanted to talk about. He took in a steading breath, then asked:

“Varric, is Lys here?”

The dwarf’s head snapped to Dorian, a grin on his face. Ah, here it comes.

“Who? Lys, my friend Lys? Lys Lavellan, or Charms, as I call him, a Dalish, about this tall, blonde hair, freckles, that Lys?”

“I… Well, I don’t actually know his last name." Dorian said honestly, realizing the truth of those words as he spoke them. “But yes and you’re well aware of who I am speaking of.”

“And why do you want to know, huh, Sparkler?”

“I am… Simply curious if I’ll meet him at another wedding.”

Varric furrowed his brows.

“Then why are you looking for him? Just sit and wait and you’ll find out.”

Dorian sighed.

“Alright, dwarf, what do you want me to say to share the knowledge you have?”

“The truth, obviously!”

“I…” Dorian began, feeling silly. He was almost 30, he was a grown ass man, he could admit to having a bit of a crush on a ridiculously attractive man. “I was hoping to see him here and… ask him out.”

“HA!” Varric yelled so loudly people around them flinched. “So you have a crush on my dear friend Lys Lavellan, yes?”

Dorian groaned, rubbing his hand over his eyes but nodded.

“Yes, I admit, I do.”

“Well, finally! I was waiting for you two to get together since Junior’s wedding. So did Sunshine and Rivaini.”

Dorian felt his cheeks flushing when he heard his friends were discussing his crush even before he fully acknowledged it but tried to keep it together until Varric spilled.

“Then maybe consider helping me out here and tell me, where I can find your very good friend Lys Lavellan, if he’s here?”

“Of course he’s here!” Varric scoffed, looking to the side. “I just saw him somewhere, lemme just… Oh, there he is!” Varric exclaimed, pointing with his drink to one of the corners of the room. Dorian turned to look and after a moment spotted Lavellan and actually sighed somewhat (only somewhat!) longingly.

Lys was wearing a black suit over a white shirt. His suit jacket was unbuttoned and revealed a colorful lining in a flowery pattern and suspenders instead of a belt. He held his hands in his pants pockets and smiled slightly at someone he was talking to.

“Sunshine invited him in hopes that third time’s the charm.” Varric said but Dorian didn’t even look at him.

“Thanks, Varric.” He mumbled and started making his way towards the elf.

“Go get him, Sparkler!” The dwarf called after him.

Dorian’s heart was beating fast, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He tried to remember the speech he had prepared for the occasion but his mind was blank, only the memory of him and Lys dancing at Sera’s wedding buzzing uselessly in his head.

He made it to Lavellan at the perfect moment, when whoever he was speaking to left and he was looking around the room. Dorian stopped near him and took in a breath.

“Lys.”

The elf turned to him, a smile appearing on his face when he spotted the other man.

“Dorian! Hi! I thought I’d see you here. How are you doing?”

_ My heart’s beating at twice the speed it’s supposed to and it’s all your fault. _

“I’m doing good, thanks. Very good, honestly. This wedding keeps getting better and better.”

Lys grinned at that, not sure what Dorian was speaking about, since he had no idea this was apparently the  _ let Dorian fix some of his relations day  _ but still amused. Speaking of fixing his relations and past mistakes...

“Lys, I wanted to – ”

Lys was looking at him but then his gaze slipped a bit to the side and his expression changed a bit. It was a small change Dorian couldn’t quite place but he did notice it. He turned his head slightly and followed Lys’ gaze.

His cousin, Josephine, was looking directly at them making her way in their direction, a drink in each hand and a smile on her face. Why was she here? He told her he’d find her later and she was supposed to go back to…

Oh.

Josephine walked up to them, a casual, warm smile on her face as she made the last step and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Lys’ lips.

_ Oh _ .

She pulled back but stayed close to Lys, handing him one of the drinks she was holding, her gaze landing on Dorian.

“Do you two know each other or did your familial instinct lead you straight to my boyfriend?”

_ Boyfriend _ .

Dorian’s mind was trying to process what was going on while working on an answer.

Josephine, his sweet cousin Josephine, had a new boyfriend. That boyfriend was Lys Lavellan, the man Dorian had a crush on for about a year, the man he was about to ask out.

_ You need to say something. _

But Josephine was dating Lys.

_ An answer, Dorian! _

“Uh, yes, we’ve met a few times.” He stammered out, trying to not show the impact the new information he just received had on him, though it was awfully difficult when he was screaming on the inside.

“We keep bumping into each other on weddings.” Lys supplied, smiling at Josephine and  –  Maker’s breath  –  wrapping an arm around Josephine’s waist. Dorian felt as if he was just punched in the stomach.

“Really? It was similar for me and Dorian when we were kids, isn’t that right?” Josephine joked, winking at her cousin.

Dorian nodded stiffly.

“Indeed, we always saw each other at weddings.”

“And how do  _ you  _ two know each other?” Lys asked, his gaze jumping from Josephine to Dorian. He seemed unaware of the internal turmoil he just caused Dorian.

No, wait, that’s not fair. The internal turmoil was Dorian’s fault and only his. He should’ve asked him out at Sera's wedding, gotten his number from Varric, anything. Instead he harbored his crush, deluding himself into thinking that Lys would not move on and instead wait for another wedding where they could meet. But why would he do that? Dorian pretty much made sure the elf thought he was not interested in anything and Lys was a very attractive man - it probably wasn't hard for him to find someone else, someone more emotionally stable and open with their interest in him.

Dorian missed his chance back at Sera's wedding and it didn’t seem he was about to get it back this time. How cruel of fate, to make him think he could get back what he ruined back then. How cruel to put in front of him Cullen, then Josephine, make it look like the world for once was on his side. He got back two people he cared about but only these two that he would gladly exchange for Lys not being here with his cousin.

“We’re cousins! Our mothers are sisters!” Josephine answered Lys’ question. The elf raised his brows.

“Really? What a small world!”

“Indeed.” Dorian said, trying not to show just how small of a world it really was that his cousin ended up with Lys, of all people.

“And you two work together? That’s what you said, isn’t that right, Josephine?” He managed out, somehow not sounding choked up. She nodded.

“Yes! You know Leliana? Leliana Aeducan is her name now.”

Dorian recalled a red-haired woman with bright blue eyes he met at Sera’s wedding and nodded.

“She runs a big charity. Lys’ been working there for years and I just started there three months ago. That’s where we met. I organize fundraisers and deal with rich donors and Lys is Leliana’s right hand.”

“That’s not my official position there, but yeah, that’s close enough.” Lavellan said, looking at Josephine with a smile. Dorian didn’t want to see that. He needed to get away from them.

“Ah, well, it’s been wonderful but I came over just to say hi. I still got to find my friend in this crowd.” Dorian tried to let out a light chuckle but it came out off. He pushed through. “I’ll see you both later, yes?”

They both nodded and smiled. They said something more but he didn’t make out the words. He turned around to the nearest exit, passing by Varric on his way. The dwarf must’ve seen the whole fiasco, since he looked at Dorian sadly. He tried to grasp his elbow but Dorian shook him off.

“Sparkler…”

But Dorian wasn’t listening. He got to the door and went out, breathing in the fresh air. He made his way to a nearby bench and sat on it. For a moment he sat motionless, then just let out a long breath and hid his face in his hands.

What a mess. What an awful confusing mess. The picture of Josephine kissing Lys seemed to be burned into the back of his eyelids but he couldn't force himself to open his eyes.

The worst part was the fact that Dorian knew exactly where he messed up. It was like he was there, back in Sera’s living room. Leliana and Mora Aeducan were there too, somewhere in the background as he was looking into Lys’ eyes.

_ Maybe we should exchange numbers so we can set up that rematch we’re both craving? We don’t actually have to drink anything. _

_ I really like you, would you like to get drinks some time? _

Or even a simple  _ Could I maybe have your number? _

Any of those would have changed everything. That’s what he should’ve said. But instead Dorian was a fool and a coward and only managed out _ I guess I’ll see you at some other wedding, huh? _

Even back then, he knew he fucked up, just not how badly.

He was roused out of the spiral he was falling down by his ringtone. Surprised, he pulled out his phone and looked at the screen. It was his mother calling, which didn’t make sense, as Aquinea Thalrassian never called him on her own volition.

Well, this day has already been so Maker-damned weird, a friendly phone conversation with his mother might as well.

He accepted the incoming call and put the phone to his ear.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, mother?” He asked, his voice just dripping with aversion towards his mother, towards the world and the series of messes and screw ups that his life was.

But her tone, when she spoke, froze him. The sober, worried voice he hasn’t heard in years meant she came bearing bad news.

“Dorian? Dorian, you need to get home as soon as you can. Your father is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am sorry.  
> Second of all, I wonder at which point did you realize that this wedding was not going to end well for Dorian?


	4. Wedding No. 4 - Josephine and Adorno. Part 1

**Together with their parents**

**Josephine Cherette Montilyet**

**&**

**Adorno Ciel Otranto**

**request the pleasure of your company at their wedding**

**27th of Bloomingtide, 9:42 Dragon**

**at four o’clock**

**in the Cosenza Chantry**

**Reception immediately following at the Cosenza Grand Hotel**

  
  


In the months following Halward Pavus’ death, Dorian was extremely busy and antisocial. The only meetings he attended were happening in courts, as his mother and cousins from his father’s side tried to contest Halward’s will. To no avail. Dorian got everything his father owned, sold most of it and left his mother with two houses, a seven digit savings account and a generous monthly stipend, then got back to his small, cozy apartment in Markham and went to a therapist, ready to cut off his family and the traumas they left him with. After a few months of hard work, Dorian saw improvement and did his best to meet his friends as often as he could.

But even after all that, when Dorian received a fancy envelope and pulled out of it an invitation to Josephine’s wedding, he went through an emotional rollercoaster. First, he felt paralyzing fear, which was definitely improper and unnecessary. Then he spotted the name under hers wasn’t “Lys Lavellan” and felt a rush of sick satisfaction at the news that their relationship didn’t work out. And then Dorian just felt guilty. Yes, maybe Josephine dated a man Dorian used to have a crush on but she didn’t know about that. Said man also was not aware of how Dorian felt about him. He had no right to be rude or nasty about it. It was his issue and it was up to him to deal with it, without letting Josephine know that he once (ONCE! No longer!) had a crush on her boyfriend. And how would it come up at her wedding to another man? The chance he’d have to talk about that was slim and Dorian decided to go to the wedding, even though he was aware of the fact that some family from his mother’s side would be there.

Some of his friends were also invited and they collectively decided to take a small vacation in Antiva after Josephine’s wedding. Dorian even called his cousin and tried to keep in touch with her, though she was extremely busy with planning the wedding, which was made even more difficult by the fact that the ceremony was to take place in Antiva, while Josephine and her fiancé lived in Starkhaven. Still, they talked as much as they could (which wasn’t much) and Josephine promised she’d pick him up from the airport when he’d arrive.

Dorian arrived at the Rialto airport around 5 in the afternoon, as he was flying from Markham. His friends who were coming from Kirkwall didn't have a flight until the next day. From here, it was about a thirty minute drive to Cosenza, a small village where the Montilyet’s family house was. Dorian started making his way towards the exit and turned his phone back on, immediately receiving a text from Josephine.

[ **Josie Montilyet / 4:47 PM]** I’m really sorry but we have an emergency here and I can’t pick you up personally from the airport but don’t worry, my friend is already on his way to get you.

Ah, wonderful. Something already going wrong and Dorian barely landed. Poor Josephine, she was a perfectionist like anyone else in Dorian’s family - an emergency less than 24 hours before her wedding must be driving her crazy. And really, it was a shame he wouldn’t get to see her until tomorrow, when she would be fully absorbed with the wedding.

But who was meant to pick Dorian up? How was he supposed to recognize this friend of Josephine? Did she show that friend a photo of him and expected Dorian to just trust a complete stranger in a foreign country? Well, if push comes to shove, he could just order a taxi. It would probably be incredibly expensive but Dorian could afford to splurge on a ride every now and then.

Dorian passed the gates and walked into an area near the exits. The large hall was crowded and noisy, people were swarming around him, running in every direction and bumping into him. Some people were waving in his direction but none of them seemed to be waving at him. Dorian wondered for a moment if he should be looking around for someone with a card with his name on but then his gaze fell onto the entrance and he froze when he spotted a familiar figure.

No. That can’t be happening.

But it was. Lys Lavellan, of all people, entered the hall and looked around, his eyes landing on Dorian. He sent Pavus a smile and walked straight to him.

How was he so calm about this unexpected meeting? And what was he doing in Antiva?

“Dorian! Hi! When did you land? Did you have to wait long?”

What?

“Lys!” Dorian said, doing his best to keep his tone light. “What are you doing here?”

The elf’s smile fell.

“You don’t know? Josie was supposed to let you know, she didn’t do that?” Taking Dorian’s stunned silence as an answer, Lys shook his head, strands of his hair falling out of a bun on the back of his head and onto his shoulders. “Dammit. Okay, so Josie was supposed to pick you up but there was an emergency involving Yvette’s dress and she had to stay home, so she sent me to get you.”

Josephine sent him here? So Lys was attending his ex-girlfriend’s wedding?

“No, I… You know what, let’s get out of this dreadful place first. We can talk on the way to Cosenza,” Dorian offered to which Lys nodded and led him out of the airport and onto the parking lot. It was afternoon but the air outside was still warm and dry. The sky was blue, palm trees and shrubs moved slowly in the light wind. Dorian took in a deep, steading breath. Antiva’s climate was very similar to Tevinter’s. In some strange way, it was very comforting.

Dorian and Lys got into a silver SUV that clearly wasn’t a rental car. The elf sat at the driver seat and started the car.

They drove in silence for a while, Lys’ eyes darting to Dorian a few times. Finally, apparently bothered by the silence, he spoke up with a smile that seemed more shy than joyous. 

“So, how was your flight?”

“It was good. The screaming toddler thankfully was on the other side of the plane, so I wasn't too bothered,” Dorian answered, then shook his head. “I apologize if I'm acting a bit off, I just didn't expect to see you here.”

“Because I'm Josephine's ex,” the elf more stated then asked but his smile grew wider and more genuine, more like the smile Dorian remembered. Something in his chest fluttered at the sight.

“Well, yes! You'll admit it's a bit unusual!” Dorian chuckled, easing into the conversation as if they just saw each other yesterday, not a year and a half ago.

“What's unusual? Being friends with your ex? Are you saying you're not friends with any of your exes?”

No, Dorian certainly wasn't saying that, considering it was his ex-turned-friend Bull that drove him to the airport a few hours ago. 

“Well, no, I'm not saying _that_ -”

“So if you were getting married, you wouldn't invite this ex, who's now your friend, to your wedding?” 

“I-” Of course he would. “Well, alright, you made your point.“ He admitted. Lys laughed, driving onto a highway.

“Exactly! And Josephine and I didn't date very long. We broke up, what, a month after Bethany's wedding. It was an easy, mutual break up - we just decided we worked better as friends than as a couple and stopped dating.”

“But you're clearly not simply coming to the wedding. You're here earlier, you know what disaster befell my dear cousin, keeping her from basking in my company and you're picking me up in a car that's clearly not a rental, considering the stains and sand. It must belong to Josephine's family.”

Lys snorted. 

“But my role in the wedding is a different matter.”

“No, it's not!” Dorian half yelled, half laughed, causing Lys to also laugh. “It’s the same matter! Or at least one closely related!”

“Okay, fine, so you know Josephine and Ciel - because no one uses his first name, I mean really, what were his parents thinking? _Adorno._ They live in Starkahaven but were planning a wedding in Antiva, right? Well, they both have siblings they wanted to ask to be their bridesmaids or best men, or whatever.” He continued, once Dorian nodded. “But their siblings live far away and weren’t much help at a distance. So they decided each of them would get two witnesses - a sibling from Antiva and a friend who was near.”

“And you’re Josephine’s… best man?” Dorian asked incredulously. Lys huffed out a laugh.

“Lemme finish! Josephine wanted to ask Leliana but she’s occupied. Mora is going through an experimental treatment, so Josephine didn’t want to bother her and asked me instead.”

“Well, it does make _some_ sense,” Dorian admitted, nodding his head. “However, I still think it’s a bit odd. I wouldn’t ask my ex to be my best man. Though that may be just because I know he has the worst ideas and I would be terrified to go to my own bachelor party.”

Lys laughed at that.

“The whole concept of those witnesses to the union slash right hands is weird to me. We don’t have that among the Dalish - the whole clan helps organize the bonding ceremony and they all witness it. But since Josephine asked and it seemed to mean a lot to her, I agreed.”

“And is Josephine’s fiance fine with that?” Dorian asked, watching Lys’ profile, which, heartbreakingly, was just as pretty as Dorian remembered.

“Yeah, he’s cool with it. He grew accustomed to me before they got engaged, so he wasn’t surprised when Josie asked me.”

“And you two… Get along well? Or are you just tolerating each other?”

“We didn’t at first but then we went to a party together, got drunk and had a sword fight. We’re on good terms since then.”

“A sword fight?” Dorian repeated, unsure he heard correctly. He must have, as Lys grinned.

“Yes. It’s… A long story.”

“Obviously.” Dorian chuckled, shaking his head. “Josephine has the weirdest taste in men.”

 _Though you two did share an object of affection, so maybe yours isn’t much better?_ Dorian’s mind unhelpfully supplied and he asked Lys a question in order to not consider it.

“So, what is he like? This Adorno Ciel Otranto? Sounds like a pretentious douche.”

“Oh, and he sure comes off like one at first. He’s a total drama queen and loves to be the center of attention but underneath he's a good dude. Kind and a real romantic. You’ve heard how he proposed?”

“That story with the concert?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“And it happened after what, a year of them dating?”

“Yeah, something around that. I guess that’s pretty quickly but they seem very happy together.”

“How did they meet?” Dorian asked, then added: “Sorry I ask you about so much, I’ve been… Out of the loop lately.”

“Right, because of the- Um...”

“Sudden death and ensuing lawsuits in my family?” Dorian suggested, a bitter smile on his face. “You can say that, it’s fine. It’s done.”

“Still, sorry I brought it up. And I’m sorry about your dad,” Lys added in a more serious tone. Dorian shook his head.

“Oh, no, don’t be. He wasn’t a good person and we didn’t get along.”

“Oh. Well, then fuck your dad,” the elf stated as if it was the most normal thing to say and Dorian choked on air.

“Sorry, was that too strong?” Lavellan asked, a bit of pink rising to his cheeks. Dorian couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, that’s pretty much on point. Screw that guy and most of my family as well. But back to my question?”

“Right. Well, did your family try to set you up with someone respectable they liked?”

“Isn’t that the universal experience?” Dorian asked in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Well, Josephine’s parents tried as well and actually succeeded. They introduced them at some fancy party and they hit it right off.”

“Fascinating and somewhat terrifying. If my father was still alive, I’d be worried it would encourage him to keep trying to introduce me to someone.”

“Yeah, better not to mention it to any parents. Josie and I have this friend, her name’s Cassandra. The moment her uncle heard of Josie’s engagement, he immediately doubled down on the matchmaking.”

Dorian laughed. He always laughed a lot when he was around Lavellan, which was both very sweet and somewhat unnerving to Dorian, especially now that he knew Lys was no longer dating his cousin and in literal arm’s reach.

Did Dorian think he was over this crush? Well, right now he realized with terrifying clarity that he, in fact, was not. Worse, the feelings didn’t just not fade away, they seemed to have gotten even stronger and morphed into something that left his mouth dry and his head empty of any productive thoughts. Really, it had been like three years since the two of them met. If Dorian was still not over him, it meant he was in pretty deep.

It was there, sitting in the front seat of Josephine’s family’s car, Lavellan laughing while telling some story involving his friends, only about a foot away, that reality hit Dorian like a train and he came to the sudden conclusion that one - he really was nose-deep in serious, mushy feelings. Two - he was just gifted with another chance to do something about those feelings. He spent the last, what, year and a half, getting mad at himself for screwing up, letting his chance slip through his fingers, allowing himself to believe he'd get another chance after Sera's wedding. At Bethany's wedding it seemed he lost any chances with Lys but over a year later _here it was_. He didn’t care if it was inappropriate for him to ask out his cousin’s ex. He wasn’t about to waste his chance - he’d tell Lys. And then, if, by some miracle, Lys would have him, Dorian would do his best to make this work.

It was a bit of an existential crisis for Dorian but when they finally parked outside of the Consenza Grand Hotel, where Dorian had rented a room and where Jospehine’s wedding party was happening the next day, his head cleared a bit. He didn’t have a plan, not yet, but he did have at least two more days to do _something_ and he would.

“Thank you for picking me up,” he said, opening the door. “I hope it wasn't much of an issue, as I bet you have a tight schedule.”

Lys shrugged, a tender smile on his face.

“I’ll always find some time for my favorite dance partner.”

_Oh._

“And I really needed to get out of that house for a while, it’s a circus right now,” he added, his smile growing. Dorian grinned at the elf.

“Admit it, you’re having a ball.”

“Maybe so. You should pop in tomorrow before the wedding. Josephine would love to see you.”

“Ah, maybe I will. It’ll probably be fun and I should speak to my aunt. I haven’t seen her in years. But even if I won’t, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m sure. Till later.”

***

Usually, when Dorian attended weddings, he skipped the morning rush hours of bridesmaids and family members running around the house in a hurry, everyone trying to do ten things at the same time and not be late for the wedding. He also skipped the ceremony in the Chantry (due to his distaste for the whole organization that was southern Chantry) and went directly to the party. But usually those weddings happened around one or two in the afternoon, not four, and weren’t happening in his closest family.

Antivan weddings usually happened in the late afternoon, so that people could party in a pleasant warmth, not an unbearable heat. Antivans also enjoyed partying the whole night and beginning too early would make that a tad more difficult. That’s why Josephine’s wedding was to happen at four and that left Dorian with a lot of time to spare before that and sitting in his hotel room just didn’t seem like much fun, so after breakfast Dorian packed his suit and made his way to the Montilyet estate.

His aunt, Josephine’s mother, was the one who opened the door for him and dragged him inside, wrapping her arms around him.

“Dorian, _mio caro_! So good to see you, oh my sweet boy, look at you! You’re so handsome!” She called directly into his ear. Aelia Thalrassian looked a lot like her sister, Dorian’s mother - she had the same grey eyes and ravenblack hair, though she didn’t dye her gray streaks, which, if you asked Dorian, looked much better. She was just as short, the top of her head barely reaching Dorian’s chest but she was a bit more chubby. Aelia also had crow’s feet that showed she smiled a lot. Dorian always liked his aunt - when he was a kid, he was jealous of his cousins getting such a sweet, caring mother while his barely noticed him.

Before Dorian could have a chance to answer her, his cousins flew down the stairs, all five of them. They surrounded him, hugging and kissing him, talking over each other, asking him questions and grabbing his hands to drag him somewhere and show him something. They would’ve either suffocated or ripped him apart if Josephine didn’t intervene.

“Leave Dorian alone! He’s here to see me!” She pushed past her siblings and pulled Dorian into a hug. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here! And I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up yesterday, Yvette spilled juice on her dress and we had to wash it off ourselves, thankfully we had some baking soda and sparkling water on hand, I don’t know if we could’ve gotten it fixed otherwise and…”

“Josephine, take a deep breath,” Dorian interrupted her, holding her at arm's length. She closed her mouth, then smiled apologetically.

“Apologies, I tend to do that when I’m stressed. And planning a wedding is incredibly stressful! Here I thought charity balls were a lot to handle but this is just madness!”

“She’s a short fuse lately, better be careful around her,” Laurien, Josephine’s younger brother, declared, earning himself a light smack to the head.

“That’s not true, don’t say that! I only have a short fuse around you four!”

Dorian laughed at Josephine along with her siblings and mother and let them lead him upstairs, to a big room that became the centre of operations for the bride and her group and he soon fell into the madness of last pre-wedding preparations, running around the house and picking up whatever someone asked him to get.

Dorian got pulled out of this madness about an hour later, when the door swung open and Lys walked in, a small bag in his hand.

“Josie, I’ve got the wedding rings!” He called out and when his eyes fell on Dorian, the only person currently in the room, he smiled brightly.

“Hello there. Did you also get dragged into helping? I have to warn you, it’s a thankless job.”

Dorian snorted.

“I don’t even know when it happened. One moment I’m swarmed by my cousins, next I’m on a mission to find Josephine’s lost cosmetics bag.”

“And did you?”

“What, like, it’s hard?”

Lavellan’s eyes went wide.

“Are you kidding me? We’ve been looking for the damned thing for a week! Where did you find it?”

“Under Yvette’s bed.”

Lys threw his hands into the air and fell onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

“Yvette! Of course!”

Dorian laughed and sat down next to Lys.

“Did I win once again?” He asked. The elf chuckled, shoving him to the side half-heartedly.

“Apparently so. You keep that up and I’ll get kicked out of my clan for bringing shame to my people.”

“It’s no shame to lose to me. I’m a man of considerable skill.”

“And a bloated ego,” the elf added, a wicked grin on his face. Dorian shrugged.

“Self-confidence is also a talent, my dear.”

“Lys! You’re here!” Josephine called out from behind them, causing them both to jump up. “Did you get the wedding rings? And Dorian found my bag, guess where it was…”

“Already told me,” Lys said, passing Josephine the bag he was holding. “And the rings are right here.”

Josephine took the bag from him and dug out a little, velvet box, opening it and sighing.

“Ah, such a relief. Can you hold onto them until the wedding?” She asked, looking at the elf, who sent her a smile and stuck his hand out for the box.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Thank you. Could you also go downstairs and give this to my dad?” She passed him a bundle of envelopes and Lys sighed and stood up, giving Dorian a meaningful look of “I told you so” and left the room. Dorian watched after him for a moment then turned to Josephine, who was looking at him with such intensity he felt like an animal backed into a corner by a predator. He flinched under her gaze - he forgot how terrifying Josephine could be, how she never missed anything and knew far too much about everyone, ready to use this knowledge if the need arose.

“What?”

Josephine’s face smoothed out after a moment and she smirked.

“He’s single, you know? And bisexual.”

Dorian almost choked on air.

“What? Why-?”

Josephine shrugged.

“Just thought you should know. And my mother wants to see you.”

And with that she left and Dorian needed a moment to compose himself before going to see his aunt.

Dorian spent the rest of the day running around whenever someone asked him and he didn’t register the passage of time until Josephine showed up in a stunning, white princess cut gown with an embroidered bodice and puffy sleeves. With that, of course, a veil, a golden necklace and her engagement ring. After tears, hugs and at least a dozen of “Stop, you’ll ruin the dress/your makeup/your hair!”, Dorian slipped into another room to change. As he was finishing up putting on cufflinks (the ones he got from aunt Aelia many years ago), he heard a knocking at the door.

“Come in!”

Lys walked into the room with a shy smile on his face, wearing a three-piece, navy blue suit and his hair, clearly stylized with a curling iron, falling freely onto his shoulders. It hurt how attractive he was, how well the color of the suit looked against his pale skin, how well the cut of his suit accentuated his figure, how charming the mixture of traditionally manly suit and feminine long, stylized hair was.

“Dorian, I’m sorry to bother you but Josephine insisted I wear a bowtie even though I don’t know how to tie it. She promised she’d do that for me but now she’s too busy and she suggested you might help me with that? If that’s not too much trouble?”

Ah, yes, of course Josephine was too busy to tie Lavellan’s bowtie and sent him to Dorian! A few hours after she pointed out to him that Lys was single! What a coincidence!

“Of course not, come here,” was all he said, turning to Lys, who handed him a black bowtie and stopped less than a foot from Dorian, close enough for him to smell the elf’s rich, herbal cologne. Dorian suddenly became hyper-aware of his own body, of every movement, every breath, every heartbeat thumping somewhere around his throat, echoing in his ears. With slightly shaking fingers he put the bowtie under the collar of Lys’ shirt, grazing his neck lightly, his breath catching in his throat for a moment that hopefully Lys didn’t notice. The silence in the room felt heavy, almost oppressive and Dorian felt that if he didn’t break the silence, he’d go crazy.

“Stressed about the wedding?” He managed out, his voice weaker and more quiet than he would have liked it. He didn’t look at Lys, knowing his face was too close for Dorian to be able to think straight once he looked into his eyes from such a small distance. Instead, he focused on tying the bowtie.

“I was, yeah. But we got everything set up, everyone is where they are supposed to be and no one lost the cake or rings, so I’m satisfied. Everything should go smoothly from here.”

Dorian let out a chuckle.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but it is a wedding that my family will attend. I’d be less surprised if my mother decided to dedicate herself to the Chantry then if the wedding would go smoothly.”

“Thank you, that’s exactly what I needed to hear after a stressful week.”

“You don't have to take my word for it but you'll see. Nothing ever goes smoothly if my family is involved. We could bet on that, see if I manage to beat you yet again.”

“You know what, sure, why not? Let’s make it a bet. The winner buys us drinks later.”

“Deal. You know, I think it’s the only bet I’ve ever made that I’d like to lose.”

Dorian finished tying the bowtie and straightened it out, then took a step back. Lavellan looked good, because of course he did - he always looked good, no matter if he was wearing an expensive, cut to his figure suit in a color that worked well with his pale complexion or a silly butterfly costume that was too small for him.

“You’re rather strapping,” Dorian said before he had the chance to think. Lys raised an eyebrow, then sent Dorian a crooked smile.

“Thank you. I’ve noticed you’re rather strapping yourself.”

Ah, witty banter? Dorian could do that.

“Of course you have noticed that. It only takes eyes.”

“Luckily I have those,” Lys said, his eyes darting down and up again over Dorian’s figure, his tone lower. Dorian felt hot under the elf’s heavy gaze, warmth pooling in his gut when he heard the tone Lys spoke in.

“A rather fetching pair,” he said, only half-aware of the fact that he took a step toward Lavellan, leaning forward a bit. Before any of them got the chance to say anything else, a voice could be heard from another room.

“Everyone get down here, we’re heading to the Chantry!”

Dorian was both relieved and disappointed by the intrusion and when he looked back at Lys, the elf already took a step back, his expression carefully neutral.

“Shall we?”

***

The first hours of the wedding were very similar to any of the weddings Dorian’ ever attended (aside from Sera’s, of course). First the ceremony, that Dorian forgot not to go to because he was still coming down from the high of his conversation with Lavellan, then the drive to the hotel, welcome for the married couple and a dinner. Dorian, as a close family member of the bride, got to sit at the long head table, not at one of the tables for the assortment of guests. He got a seat next to Josephine’s three brothers, which was a chance for him to catch up with them, though he caught himself spacing out every now and then, looking over at Lys who was sitting closer to the bride. The elf caught his sight a few times and smiled at Dorian everytime.

Well, when you add those smiles, the flirting back at the Montilyet’s house and all the flirting from before Lys dated Josephine, Dorian was about 95% sure Lavellan also had some feelings towards him. So that bode very well for Dorian’s plan to ask him out, so quickly he made the decision that he would get a hold of Lavellan at some point of the wedding, get them both a drink and finally spill.

***

Getting a hold of Lavellan turned out to be far more difficult than Dorian had expected. Due to the fact that he was Josephine’s best man and the other person who was supposed to be helping the bride was Yvette, the family’s artistic soul, Lys was the only person doing his best to keep the wedding going smoothly. He kept running around the room, getting dragged away by Josephine’s relatives and he disappeared in the kitchens on a few occasions.

Finally Dorian spotted the elf surrounded by Yvette and some giggling friends of hers. Even with a gentle smile on his face he seemed a bit uncomfortable and appeared to be trying to get away from them, his eyes darting to the sides. Clearly too kind to just turn around and leave. Dorian snorted, amused and walked up to them, grabbing the elf’s arm.

“Lys, my dear, I’m sorry to bother you but someone from the kitchen wanted to talk to you. It’s something about the cake.”

Lavellan’s head whipped around and there was genuine terror on his face. Maybe Dorian should’ve used some other excuse to drag him away from the girls.

“No, please, anything but the cake. If anything happens to it, I’ll jump into the sea, I swear.”

Yvette’s friends giggled and Dorian smiled, giving them an amused look.

“And here I thought I was the dramatic one. I’m sure it’s nothing serious but I have to steal him away for a moment.”

“Hopefully not for long,” someone from the crowd called and Dorian pulled at Lys’ arm lightly, getting him away from the gaggle of Yvette’s friend. When they disappeared out of sight, Dorian stopped and turned to face Lys. They almost left the room the party was in and stood near the door to the entrance hall.

“I apologize for the little deception there. There is nothing wrong with the cake, I just needed a reason to get you out of their claws. You seemed in need of some help.”

Lys looked at Dorian for a moment, then leaned forward, a deep breath leaving his lungs.

“So the cake was a lie? There's no emergency? Oh, thank the Creators!”

“I should’ve picked a different excuse, my bad," Dorian said, smiling lightly at Lavellan. The elf straightened up, shaking his head.

“No, it’s alright. I mean, I myself wasn’t expecting to react so badly to the word _cake_ , so I don’t blame you for not knowing.” He grinned lightly, looking at Dorian with glinting, golden-green eyes. “And thank you. I think I've reached my limit of social interactions for now and need a break.”

“Should I leave you alone for a while?” Dorian asked. It’s not something he wanted to do but he certainly didn’t want to make Lavellan even more uncomfortable. Thankfully, Lys shook his head.

“No, you’re good. How about we get some drinks and go sit outside, get some fresh air?”

“Wonderful idea. Go, find us some place to sit and I’ll bring…”

Dorian didn’t get to finish the sentence as his gaze slipped from Lavellan’s face and onto a figure that just entered the building. All thoughts left his mind and he felt a flash of panic, his stomach turning. Lys spotted Dorian’s weird reaction and his face fell, smile replaced by concern.

“Dorian? What’s wrong?”

“Is that… What’s my mother doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this me ending a third chapter in a row with something going badly for Dorian? Yes. Do I regret it? Yes but also no.


	5. Wedding No. 4 - Josephine and Adorno. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING for this chapter - at the beginning there's some homophobia, biphobia, racism against elves and implied past emotional abuse (all courtesy of Dorian's mother). There isn't much of it but if you're sensitive to such things, maybe skip the part with Dorian's mother. Also, there's smut later on. It's not very explicit but it's there.

**Together with their parents**

**Josephine Cherette Montilyet**

**&**

**Adorno Ciel Otranto**

**request the pleasure of your company at their wedding**

**27th of Bloomingtide, 9:42 Dragon**

**at four o’clock**

**in the Cosenza Chantry**

**Reception immediately following at the Cosenza Grand Hotel**

Lys searched Dorian’s face for a moment, confusion in his eyes.

“What? Your mother?” He turned to take a look into the hall.

“Yes, right there, in the gray dress. What is she doing here? Why wasn’t I told she’d be here?” His voice was rushed and a bit panicked. Lys turned to him and laid a gentle hand on Dorian’s arm.

“She wasn’t invited, Dorian, I don’t know what she’s doing here. Josephine made it abundantly clear your mother wasn’t welcome.”

So she learned about her niece’s wedding and decided to crash the party and stir up some drama? How typical.

Dorian wasn’t scared of his mother - the only emotions he felt towards her were pity and distaste. She married his father against her will or at least without any enthusiasm and Dorian regretted that it happened but even that didn’t, in his opinion, justify her behavior. For most of his life, she was cold and absent, occasionally cruel. His father at least had the excuse of “I was doing what’s best for you”, though it was a fake and bullshit reason but his mother? She acted the way she did because she was a bitter, awful person who thought that since she wasn’t happy, she needed to inflict pain on others. When Dorian was growing up, she barely paid him any mind and occasionally, when she noticed him in between getting drunk on wine and on brandy, she spotted Dorian’s every flaw and weakness and used them against him. And after his father's death, she had no qualms about suing him in order to squeeze as much of his father’s money as she could out of him. Dorian didn’t really put up much resistance - he just wanted to get her off his back and to never see her again.

Yet here she was, at Josephine’s wedding to which she wasn’t invited. If she’d turn to her right, she'd notice Dorian and it’d be their first meeting in months, after they parted not on good terms.

Lys squeezed Dorian’s shoulder lightly, drawing his attention.

“We should let Josie know. Come on.”

“I’d rather she stays in the hall and doesn’t enter the room. Too many eyes there. Go get Josephine, I’ll keep my mother here.”

Lys furrowed his brows, concern etched into every part of his beautiful face.

“You don’t have to speak with her.”

Dorian smiled, trying to look calm and confident.

“If she’s here, she’ll make sure I get to speak to her. Go, get Josephine.”

Lys stood there for a moment longer, then sighed heavily and turned on his heels, rushing to the head table.

Dorian took in a deep breath and walked into the hall.

“Mother,” he spoke up when he was close enough that she would hear him. She was looking for something in her bag but she looked up when she heard him and her mouth turned up in a mocking smile.

“Dorian.”

“What a surprise to see you. I didn’t know you’d come.” The  _ because you weren’t invited  _ wasn’t spoken aloud but it hung in the air. Aquinea Thalrassian, however, didn’t appear bothered by it. She shrugged her shoulders with a worked out precision and air of superiority.

“The invitation must’ve gone somewhere else.”

“Uh-huh.”  _ Ah, the gall of this woman _ .

“I’m sure they’ll find a place for a little old me. I come bearing gifts,” she announced, waving an envelope in the air. Something told Dorian Josephine would find a place for his mother though not thanks to the bribe but simply to keep her from stirring too much drama. Which will also absolutely sour the whole party for Dorian but what can you do.

“Aunt Aquinea!” Came Josephine’s poised voice. The bride walked into Dorian’s line of sight, along with her husband, the eldest of her brothers, Laurien, and Lys, who took a place near Dorian.

Josephine walked up to her aunt and hugged her lightly, a sweet smile on her face.

“You didn’t RSVP, so we thought you weren’t coming!” Josephine cooed, stepping back. She took Ciel’s arm. “This is my husband, Adorno Ciel Otranto. Dear, this is my aunt, Aquinea Thalrassian.”

Ciel bowed his head, a charming smile on his face as Dorian’s mother scrutinized him.

“You could’ve done so much better.”  _ Not charming enough _ . “But I guess you’re still doing better than my son.”

The tension rose but for now everyone, aside from Aquinea of course, were playing nice, eager to avoid the family drama.

“I'm sure we'll find a place for you, aunt. Come along, I’ll show you to your seat," Josephine said, slightly turning and reaching out a hand to Dorian’s mother, who was watching her with an expression Dorian knew. He leaned forward and spoke quietly.

“Please, mother, there’s no need for a scene. Go with Josephine, eat something, get drunk and go on your merry way.”

His mother’s sharp gaze turned to him and after a moment, she looked back at Josephine. Dorian felt himself relax slightly. All too soon.

“Unlike my son, you actually managed to get married before turning thirty. And to someone of the opposite sex! I’ve heard some rumours about you but I’m glad to see that your parents straightened you out.”

Oh no, that wasn’t good.

They all froze in horror upon hearing those words. Dorian felt himself flush, though he wasn’t sure if it was due to fury or shame. Laurien started getting a bit red and Ciel clenched his fists, his jaw working. Josephine’s smile didn’t wane but her gaze was sharp and cold. Dorian’s mother’s face was neutral but there was a hint of smugness in her eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing. She didn’t come here just to make everyone uncomfortable. She wanted to stir up some drama, cause a scandal, ruin the wedding and probably make sure it also hit Dorian. A vengeance for not inviting her to the wedding but inviting her son, who she considered a disappointment.

“Follow me, aunt,” Josephine said, her voice a little lower. They took a few steps and Dorian’s mother spotted Lavellan standing nearby. She barely spared him a glance and said:

“Ah, good you’re here. Bring me a glass of brandy on ice. No lemon, you hear me? No lemon. You have to repeat yourself twice these days, it’s so hard to find actually helpful staff. And those elves are the worst! You think they’d hear you well with those huge ears but no!”

Oh no, this was getting worse. Josephine’s step faltered and that caused Aquinea to also stop. Dorian looked at Lavellan who just stood there surprised and felt his blood boiling, his heart beating faster. He grabbed his mother’s elbow.

“Could you please at least try to behave and not insult my friends?”

The woman looked at Dorian surprised, then her gaze fell on Lavellan and quickly returned to Dorian. There was a look of disappointment and distaste in her eyes, one that Dorian knew all too well.

“Your  _ friends _ ? That’s your friend? Truly, Dorian. I know you’d do anything to anger and humiliate me but that’s low, even for you. The Qunari was a lot already but one of those savage Dalish? That’s barely above you fucking an ani-”

“That’s enough!” Josephine interrupted, her face contorted in anger and terror. Ciel and Laurien gasped in shock at Aquinea's words. “Aunt, I was willing to be kind and diplomatic and invite you to the wedding party but I will not have you insulting my friends! Laurien, get aunt Aquinea into a cab and make sure to point her out to security, so they don’t let her in if she’ll try to return. Now!”

Laurien grabbed Aquinea’s elbow and started half-leading, half-dragging her to the exit. She was saying something else but Dorian didn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears. He felt sick to his stomach and out of breath, his head spinning. He looked after his mother’s retreating figure, unable to look at Josephine and her husband. And unable to look at Lys.

He knew he should react somehow, say something, apologize. But his ears were ringing, his heart beating fast, his throat was dry and he couldn’t force himself to say anything.

He more saw than felt Josephine’s hand on his arm and noticed the worried look in her eyes, when her face came into view. He shrugged her hand off, mumbled something about needing some air and walked out the door, turning to the hotel’s sprawling gardens.

He walked and walked, unable to calm down. He made a few rounds around the garden, then sat down heavily on a bench hidden behind a lattice almost completely covered with roses, hiding his head in his hands.

Dorian’s mother always knew how to turn her words into knives but today she truly outdone herself. Not only did she ruin any chances he had with Lavellan by showing him how awful his family was and how awful he, by extension, could be, she also made sure Lys would think that to Dorian he could be nothing more but a plaything used to anger his parents.

That’s why Dorian wanted to cut off all of his family aside from the Montilyets - they weren’t family or at least not what family was supposed to be. They were a bunch of hyenas, using each other for their goals. When someone broke out of their plan, broke their ridiculous, cruel rules, they were discarded and rejected, humiliated time after time. And Dorian’s mother was very good at hitting him where it hurt the most.

This was bad, very bad. This whole trip had gotten out of hand and became a trainwreck in about 24 hours. Dorian was on a verge of a panic attack, his head hurt and he felt like he was going to throw up and he really could use a drink and he needed to get the hell out of there, runaway, preferably get on a ship to Rivain and become a pirate to never resurface again.

“You won.”

Dorian’s head snapped up, his eyes flying open and landing on Lys standing nearby, a shot with a lemon wedge on top of the glass in each hand. He handed Dorian one drink and sent him a tired smile.

“The bet,” he explained, as Dorian stared at him in shock. “Whether the wedding would go smoothly or not. I’d say kicking out the bride’s aunt can be counted as things not going smoothly.”

“I…” Dorian started saying but Lys shook his head.

“A drink first. I’d say we both need it.” And without waiting for Dorian, he knocked back the alcohol, biting into the lemon right after. Well, that was true - Dorian did need a drink, so he did the same, grimacing at the lemon’s sourness. He did feel a bit better after that, the lemon felt like a punch to the face that shook Dorian out of spiralling.

Lys took a step forward and asked:

“May I?”

Dorian looked at the space next to him at the bench and shuffled to the side, mumbling a “Yes” under his breath. Lys sat down with a heavy sigh. The bench was small and with armrests, which meant that they had to sit with their sides pressed against one another. It was silent for a while, then Dorian said:

“Lys, I’m so – ”

“Don’t,” the elf interrupted, “don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

“But my mother – ”

“You’re not responsible for your mother’s reprehensible actions.”

“But… Lys, you have to know I’m so fucking so – ”

“Dorian, please,” Lys’ cut him off, his fingers wrapping around Dorian’s wrist. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine but it’s not your fault that it happened and you shouldn’t apologize for that.”

Dorian looked down at his wrist, where Lavellan held onto him. Lavellan’s lithe, pale fingers contrasted against Dorian’s darker skin. They were warm and calloused, as if Lavellan frequently played an instrument or practiced some sport, fingernails manicured, probably specially for the wedding. He also was wearing a wrist brace, which Dorian didn’t notice earlier. He recalled he had it had it on the night they met.

“I don’t… I’m not like my mother. Nothing like her,” he managed out, not looking up at Lys.

“I know," the elf said, his voice a soft whisper.

“And you’re not… I don’t date people just to annoy my parents.”

“I know,” Lavellan repeated, then after a moment: “Are you alright?”

Dorian shook his head, a bitter laughter bubbling out of his chest.

“No. Not really.”

He moved his hand, causing Lavellan to withdraw his own but Dorian caught it quickly and intertwined their fingers. Lys didn’t say anything but squeezed his hand lightly, his thumb stroking over Dorian’s knuckles. Pavus sighed heavily, leaning his head on Lavellan’s shoulder, his eyes closing.

“Do Josephine and Ciel hate me for ruining their wedding?”

“Of course not, don’t be silly. None of it was your fault. And the wedding’s far from ruined.”

“You don’t think the bride hearing bullshit like that is the grounds for a ruined wedding?” Dorian asked. He could feel the elf shaking his head.

“No, I don’t think it is. It probably infuriated her to hear that but compared to all the fun she’s having and how happy she is, she probably won’t remember that in the years to come. As long as the bride’s first thoughts of her wedding are the first dance with her husband and not someone getting dragged by the hair away from the altar, it’s not a ruined wedding.”

Dorian hummed.

“Don’t tell me you actually saw something like that.”

“Oh, I did. Although does it technically count as a wedding if the bride was manipulated into entering a chaste marriage in service of Andraste but didn’t manage to speak her vows before being forcibly removed from the Chantry by her mother?”

That got a chuckle out of Dorian.

“Hm, tough question. But they were before an altar at the Chantry?”

“Yes.”

“So I’d say it does count. Who of your friends did that happen to?”

Lys snorted.

“To my aunt. Like, 15 years ago. It’s… A long story. Thankfully, my aunt got smarter with age and nothing like that happened again. And her story lives on among my clan as a warning to young people to not trust overly friendly Chantry types.”

Dorian furrowed his brow.

“Wait. Is that the same aunt who made your butterfly costume?”

Lys snorted.

“Yes. Auntie Rev.”

“She sounds like the most interesting person in Thedas.”

“She also had an affair with a duchess of Markham, adopted a bear cub after she found it alone and malnourished and accidently fell into the Deep Roads while on a stroll. So yes, I’d say she is.”

Dorian smiled.

“She should write a memoir. Varric could introduce her to his publisher. I know I’d read that.”

“I think the levels of absurdity in her life had long surpassed those palatable for an average reader.”

“Could be.”

Silence befell them but it wasn’t heavy, loaded or uncomfortable. It was calming and easy and Dorian didn’t want to move.

“You don’t have to get back to the party, if you don’t want to,” Lys said after a while. His voice was quiet, as if he also didn’t want to break the bubble they were in.

Dorian let out a breath.

“I… Don’t know what I want to do.” But that wasn’t entirely true. There was one thing Dorian wanted to do. He raised his head and when Lys turned to face him, leaned in, pressing their lips together.

Lavellan’s lips were soft and a bit chapped, the scar on his lower lip was rough and felt amazing under Dorian’s own. Lys leaned into the kiss, returning it eagerly, his hand palming the back of the other man’s neck. Dorian captured Lys’ lower lip between his and swept his tongue over the scar, drawing a low sound out of Lavellan. Warmth began pooling in Dorian’s gut as Lavellan opened his mouth and licked into Dorian’s mouth. One kiss turned into the second, then third and then the next one again, each more ferocious than the last one. Lys wrapped a hand around Dorian’s waist, pulling him closer and closer, pressing their bodies flush together and Pavus buried his hands in the elf’s long, blonde, impossibly soft hair.

Lys broke the kiss and Dorian thought he’d pull back, but the elf’s lips landed on the underside of Dorian’s jaw and he sighed, throwing his head to the side to give him better access. Lavellan’s mouth moved along his jawline, then down Dorian’s neck and when he reached Dorian’s pulse point, he grazed it lightly with his teeth, then covered the spot with his tongue and Dorian moaned.

It was a bit louder than he expected and suddenly he remembered they were in a garden, where any of the wedding guests could walk in on them. A vision of Varric finding them like that flashed before his eyes and, even though he wanted nothing more than to continue, he pulled back but kept his hands on the sides of Lys’ face.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Dorian breathed, leaning his forehead against Lavellan’s and trying to catch his breath. Lys leaned forward, catching his lips in another searing kiss and Dorian melted into it.

“So why are we stopping?” The elf asked against Dorian’s lips, causing him to smile brightly.

“I love being indecent but we are in a garden that can be easily accessed by, say, nosy dwarves.”

Lavellan sighed and leaned back.

“Right. Forgot about that.” He smiled, looking at Dorian with half-lidded eyes, his gaze heavy with want, lips wet and pink. Dorian didn’t want to let him out of his arms and he couldn’t deny that he wanted more than just kiss.

“I have a room upstairs,” Dorian offered, quietly. The implication was obvious and Lys caught it - he raised an eyebrow, his gaze catching on Dorian’s lips.

“You sure you want that?” He asked, his tone soft.

_ So much _ .

“Yes.”

Lys stood up and offered a hand to Dorian, a cheeky smile on his face, his eyes sparkling.

“Lead on, then.”

Pavus grabbed his hand and once again today laced their fingers together, dragging Lavellan after him into the hotel, then into the elevator. Just as the doors were closing, Dorian spotted Varric on the other side of the room. The dwarf looked at him confused, then his gaze landed on Lavellan and returned to Dorian, a big, knowing smirk on his face. He raised his glass as in toast and then the elevator door closed. Wonderful. Varric already knew too much, now that he spotted them on their way to Dorian’s room, he would not let it go once they saw him again. And sharing the details of his personal life didn’t sound very appealing. However, thankfully, Varric was a problem for later and Dorian’s attention quickly returned to the elf whose hand rested in his.

There were other people in the elevator, so he didn’t throw himself at Lys as he wanted to, instead they rode up in silence, then made their way down the hallway to Dorian’s door. He opened them and let Lys in, walking after the elf, then made sure the door were closed and the moment he turned into the room, Lavellan was on him immediately, wrapping one arm around Dorian’s waist, the other on his ass, pushing him back until his back collided with a wall and he moaned as Lavellan slipped his leg between Dorian’s.

Pavus wrapped his hands around Lys’ neck, pulling him close, closer, pressing their bodies flush together, eager to not leave any space between them. Lavellan once again began trailing Dorian’s jaw and neck with his mouth, licking and biting and Dorian threw his head back, eyes closed. Lys found a sensitive spot behind his ear and Dorian moaned, his hips grinding down against the elf’s thigh, both sucking in a harsh breath at the sensation.

Dorian grabbed Lys chin and drew him in for a heated kiss that was more teeth then anything but Dorian didn’t mind because it all felt  _ amazing _ . His hand slipped down the elf’s neck and caught onto his collar and he had no qualms about untying the bow he himself tied earlier today. With the bowtie gone, he started unbuttoning Lys’ shirt and the elf helped by taking off the jacket and vest he was wearing. When Dorian was done with the buttons, he splayed out his hands on Lavellan’s toned stomach, feeling the muscles under his soft, warm skin, grinding down his hips again. Lys let out a heavy breath and Dorian pushed him lightly.

“The bed,” he rasped out and the elf captured Dorian’s lips in a kiss, while he pushed him further into the room and towards the bed. The back of Lys’ legs hit the bed but Dorian didn’t stop moving forward and they tumbled onto the mattress giggling. Lys landed on his back with Dorian straddling him, a leg on each side and he raised his hips until they connected, a gasp escaping his lips. He put his hands on Dorian’s thighs as he sat up to take off his own jacket and shirt and admire the view under him. To say it was a pretty picture would be an understatement. Lys was maddeningly gorgeous, with his hair splayed over the sheets, flushed cheeks and blown pupils, lips wet and pink and slightly parted. His shirt was wide open and Dorian noticed that the dark brown tattoos sprawling his face and arms must’ve also taken up his back, branching out onto his sides, one line of it crossing with an old scar. The leather strap with a golden ring on it was hanging around his neck, just as it did when they first met.

“Enjoying the view?” Lys asked, his voice low and breathy and unbelievably attractive.

“Very much,” Dorian answered with a smile, his eyes still roaming the expanse of the other man’s broad chest.

Dorian got the shirt off of himself and propped his hands on the sides of Lys’ head, leaning down to kiss him hungrily. One of Lys’ hands travelled up Dorian’s thigh up to his ass, the other splayed on his lower back, pushing Dorian down, closer to him, both of them laughing into the kiss. Dorian didn’t put up much resistance and soon he was laying on top of Lys, chest on chest, stomach on stomach, hips on hips. They kissed and moved their hips up and down in search of a rhythm and then Lavellan flipped them over, so that Dorian lied on his back with Lys between his legs.

Lavellan sat up for a moment and got the shirt fully off of himself. Dorian groaned at the loss of contact, causing Lys to chuckle.

“Don’t you pout!” He chided Dorian light-heartedly, raising his hands to his head and gathering all of his hair on one side of his head. “I need to braid my hair, they’ll get in the way."

“You don’t want me to pull on them?” Dorian asked with a smirk and Lys chuckled.

“You can pull on the braid.”

“Why thank you for the permission, I’ll be sure to do that.”

Lys finished the braid quickly and threw it back onto his back, then took off the wrist brace he was still wearing.

“You can leave it on if it's something serious. I don’t want anything to hurt you,” Dorian said, propping himself up on his elbows. Lavellan sent him a reassuring smile.

“It’s fine, I don’t have to wear it all the time.”

“Why are you even wearing it? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

“There was an explosion. I fell down the stairs and landed on my hand. Had issues with it ever since.”

Dorian stared at Lys for a while.

“There was an explosion and you fell down the stairs.”

The elf smirked.

“It's a long story. One of my friends had a bad idea and it backfired. Literally.”

“Naturally. Do normal things ever happen to you and your family?”

“Good question. Not really, I gotta say.”

Lavellan got the brace off and put it gently on the bedside table, turning to Dorian.

“Where were we?”

“You were on top of me, I’m sure of that.”

Lys got back where he was, kissing Dorian hungrily, his fingers running through Dorian’s hair, messing them even more. Pavus chuckled into the kiss.

“Were you waiting to do that?”

“You’ve no idea.” Lys smiled, pulling his head back slightly but still keeping it close enough for their noses to almost touch, their rapid breaths to mix. “I was very curious how you look with your hair not carefully slicked into place.”

“I always look good.”

“I’m sure of that. Also, your mustache is a new sensation for me.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? And how do you find it?”

Lys smirked.

“Agreeable.”

Dorian wanted to say that his mustache is far better than  _ agreeable _ but Lys dived down again and they melted into a kiss, hands in his hair, while he held onto Lavellan’s muscled shoulders, a leg hooked over his hip. They were kissing, pressed against each other, Lys’ warm body weighing him down but Dorian still pulled him closer and closer, desperate to eliminate any space between them.

Lavellan laid his hand on Dorian’s neck but quickly it started travelling lower, down his side, onto his stomach and finally landing between his legs, palming Dorian’s erection through his pants. He moaned, buckling his hips into the touch.

“Wait,” he rasped out and Lavellan quickly moved back, looking into Dorian's face with concern. “I’d rather not ruin those pants.”

Lys blinked, then smiled.

“Shall I get them off of you?”

“ _ Yes, _ ” Dorian breathed. “And get rid of your own as well.”

Lavellan did as he was asked proficiently and Dorian sighed a breath of relief once his cock was no longer pressed uncomfortably against the material of his briefs. Lys was sitting back, his eyes dark, roaming over Dorian’s body.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, causing the elf to smile.

“Very much. Dorian, do you have…?”

“Yeah, I’ve got everything.” Dorian nodded, propping himself on his elbows and looking around the room. “Um… There, in that bag.”

Lys got off the bed and grabbed the bag Dorian pointed out, pulling a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms out of it.

“What a relief,” he breathed out as he got back onto the bed and leaned in to kiss Dorian.

Lavellan opened up the bottle of lube and squeezed a generous amount on his fingers, then crawled closer to Dorian, who readily spread his legs. Though it seemed the elf wasn’t above a bit of teasing as he pressed a soft kiss to the inside of Dorian’s thigh, right below his knee, drawing a sigh out of him.

“Such a tease. Do that again,” Dorian breathed and Lys pressed another kiss a bit lower, then another and another, going lower and lower. He slipped one finger inside Dorian at the same moment he grazed his thigh with his teeth and Dorian’s hips jerked up inadvertently. He let out a shaky breath and tried to relax. Lys moved his finger first slowly and steady and when Dorian began moving his hips, slipped in a second finger, picking up the pace and pushing a bit further with each move until he hit just the right spot, causing Dorian to throw his head back and moan loudly.

“Yes, right there,” he breathed and matched his hips’ movement with Lys’ fingers, a wave of pleasure coursing through his body with every move. They moved like that for a while and when Dorian felt he was nearing the edge, he forced himself to still.

“Yes, that’s alright. That’s enough.”

Lys looked up at him.

“You can finish like that, if you want.” Dorian did want to but he wanted even more to wrap himself around the elf again, with absolutely no space left between them.

“Just come here.” He smiled. Lys pulled his fingers out and moved to put a condom on, while Dorian adjusted his position on the bed, lying down with his head on the pillows. Lys moved back to him and hovered over Dorian for a moment.

“If something’s wrong, tell me, okay?” He said, looking at Dorian, who nodded.

“Yes, now fuck me finally!” He demanded, drawing a laugh out of Lavellan. They kissed and Lavellan entered him slowly, giving Dorian time to adjust. It took a moment and then Dorian wrapped his legs around Lys’ hips, thrusting his own.

Lavellan let out a choked sound and dived down to kiss him, starting to move his hips, his movement slow and drawn out at first. Dorian moaned, throwing his head back. Lavellan pressed his face into the crook of his lover’s neck and Dorian used the occasion to grab a handful of Lys’ hair at the back of his neck, where the damned braid didn’t start yet. He pulled at them and Lys moaned, bucking his hips into Dorian’s a bit harder. He picked up the pace and they found a rhythm that worked for them both.

Dorian was, as he wanted, completely wrapped around Lys, his legs around his hips, one hand in his hair, the other between Lavellan’s shoulder blades, not letting him move too far away from him, tips of his fingers pressing into the soft skin. Lys was once again kissing, licking and biting Dorian’s neck, now trailing down to his collarbone, biting down hard in one place. Dorian sucked in a breath. That would definitely leave a bruise.

It didn’t take long for Dorian to feel he was getting closer and closer to the edge and he started moving faster, losing all semblance of a rhythm, now only chasing the release that felt close.

“Lys… I’m so close…” He breathed and Lavellan moaned.

“Say my name again,” he asked and Dorian did.

Lys, Lys, Lys. He said over and over again, between moans, as he was sucking in a deep breath, tugging at his lover’s hair. Lavellan’s movement became more frantic and his thrusts harder and faster and finally Dorian came, Lys’ name on his lips as he finished, his hips moving hectically, riding out his orgasm. Lavellan wasn’t far behind, finishing with a harsh breath, few last thrusts quick and hard.

They laid there for a while, Lys on top of Dorian, whose legs were still wrapped around Lavellan and waited for their breaths and heartbeats to return to normal levels. Eventually Lys rolled off of Dorian onto the bed next to him. Dorian closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the afterglow, the peace of his mind, the warm heaviness of his limbs. Lys moved on the bed next to him for a moment, then laid back again, wrapping an arm around Dorian’s shoulders and drawing him closer. Pavus was happy to oblige and rolled onto his side, pressed into Lavellan, head on his shoulder and a hand over his heart. Lys’ fingers were caressing his side, traveling up and down, his touch feather light and Dorian started drifting off to sleep.

He wasn’t sure how long they laid there and if he fell asleep or just tiptoed the edge but after some time Lys stirred.

“Dorian? You can stay here if you’d like but I have to go back downstairs.”

He opened his eyes with considerable effort and looked at Lavellan’s face, just inches away from his own. He was so close he could count Lys’ many freckles.

“What? Why?”

Lys chuckled.

“It’s half past eleven. The cake cutting and speeches happen at midnight, Josephine expects me there.”

Dorian watched Lavellan for a moment, then furrowed his eyebrows.

“You’re giving a speech?” He asked.

“Well, I am the best man.” Lys smiled gently. “And we both know Yvette can’t be trusted with speaking publicly about Josephine. But you don’t have to go, if you’d rather get some sleep.”

Dorian wanted to stay where he was and keep Lys there too but if that was not a viable option, he’d rather be near Lys downstairs (where there was also a lot of good booze) than alone up here. He sighed heavily and forced himself to free Lavellan out of his hold on him, laying on his back.

“Ugh, fine. Let’s go downstairs. But I’m dragging you up here again later.”

Lavellan pushed himself up on his elbow and pressed a kiss to Dorian’s cheek.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” And then he hopped off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Dorian would get up as well, just two more minutes.

Dorian got up five minutes later but somehow another ten minutes later they were both presentable, though their hair was a bit of a mess and their suits a bit wrinkled.

“Dorian, can you help me with the bowtie again?” Lys asked sheepishly and Pavus grabbed the bowtie without a word, drawing Lavellan close. He tucked Lavellan’s long, now a bit messy hair behind his ears, then threw the tie around his neck, his fingers lingering against his warm skin longer than was strictly necessary just because they could, because even though having Lavellan so close was still intoxicating, the silence around them was no longer heavy and overwhelming but easy and calm. But there was an unspoken question nagging Dorian, sitting at the back of his head and he needed to finally say it, forcing himself to keep his tone light though that didn’t really work out.

“I’m curious where this goes, you and I.”

His eyes were trained on the bowtie, he felt unable to look up into those big, sparkling eyes.

“Where do you want it to go?” Lys asked quietly.

A voice in the back of Dorian’s mind, one that sounded a lot like his father, was yelling  _ Leave it like that! Leave it here, leave it now, before it becomes too much!  _ A few years, hell, a few months earlier, Dorian probably would’ve done that or at least said something that would’ve let Lavellan get out of this easily. But Dorian made a decision earlier and instead of saying something stupid, he said something syrupy:

“I like you. More than I should. More than might be wise. Maker, I haven’t gotten you out of my mind for the past three years. I’d rather we don’t end it here but I will not put up a fight if you decide otherwise. I’m still working through some issues, as you might’ve guessed after seeing me and my mother interact, so it’s not going to be just fun and dancing. But if you’re willing to give it a shot, then know that so am I.”

That was probably the most sincere confession of romantic feelings in Dorian’s life and his stress levels skyrocketed. His heart was beating fast and he was sure that if let go of the already finished bowtie he was still clutching between his fingers, his hands would be shaking. He was bracing for a rejection, because of course he was. That’s what he was used to, that’s what he grew to expect, that's what was easier.

But the blow never came. Lys once again today wrapped his fingers around Dorian’s wrist and said:

“You know, I wanted to ask you out at Sera and Dagna’s wedding. But I didn’t think you were interested in seeing me outside of weddings…”

“Because I cut you off,” Dorian guessed. He looked up, into Lys’ face - he nodded, his cheeks flushed a bit. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know now.” Lys grinned. “But then I thought you were just trying to stop me from embarrassing us both. So I moved on, then began dating Josephine and I thought I got over you. And then I saw you at the airport and realized that I really didn’t and that I missed you. And that since I got the chance to see you again, I’d use it to do something about it. So, what I’m saying is - I do want to give it a shot. Very much.”

Dorian knew that Lys was interested in him but this still came as a surprise. He stared at Lavellan, who chuckled after a moment of silence.

“Speechless, I see.”

Dorian smiled, a smile so big he was worried his face would crack and so happy he was worried he’d say something even more syrupy.

“It’s not often that I’m out of words - consider the fact that you managed to bring me to such a state a compliment.”

“Show off.” Lys smiled and leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Dorian melted into the kiss, wrapping his hands around the elf’s neck, warmth flooding his chest but Lys broke away quickly.

“We still have to get downstairs.”

Dorian sighed heavily but the big smile still on his face gave out the fact that he wasn’t annoyed - he was feeling many things now but annoyance wasn't one of them.

“Ugh, fine. Let’s go. Just, do us both a favour and do try to avoid our nosy dwarf. He already knows too much.”


	6. Epilogue

If this was how the Dalish partied, Dorian was no longer surprised by Lys’ comments on how boring parties thrown by humans were. Decorated rooms of fancy hotels and violinists were no comparisons to this.

It was a warm, summer night and they were in a forest, in a surprisingly spacious, round clearing. In the middle burned a huge bonfire, to which someone constantly added more wood. The trunks of the trees on the edge of the clearing were wrapped in garlands of colorful flowers, smelling sweetly in the night air. There was music playing, not from a set of speakers but live music, played by musicians from Lys' clan. It wasn’t very loud - just enough for people to be able to dance to it but not so it boomed over the forest.

On one side of the bonfire the party was still going, people dancing, eating the assortment of all kinds of foods and drinking the fascinating Dalish liquors from different clans. It’s been about 6 hours since the party started and most people were still on the dance floor, or participating in various games happening around the clearing.

Dorian sat on the other side of the bonfire, where blankets were laid out on the ground so children and those who drank a bit too much could sleep or just rest. Dorian was not in any of those categories but he came here a while ago to sit for a moment and take a break.

“Here.” Dorian heard and suddenly there was a bottle of beer in his hand and a warm body behind his back. He smiled, leaning back, making himself comfortable.

“Tired already?” Lys asked, wrapping his hands around Dorian, who took a long sip of his drink.

“A bit. It’s been a long and emotional day. And sitting in front of the fire is really nice. We should have a fireplace.”

“In our apartment? I don’t think it’s possible,” Lys chuckled. “Maybe an electric one.”

Dorian frowned.

“No, I want a real fireplace. If we can’t have one in our apartment, well, that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“I’m in. But can we also get a cat? Anders will finally be able to say that he got all of his friends to take a cat.”

“So we’re in agreement then? A house with a fireplace and a cat?” Dorian asked, a smile on his face.

“Sure. We can start looking for a place once we’re back from the honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon in Antiva. The things I do for you,  _ amatus _ .”

“Ah, yes - good wine, fresh fruits, warm climate. The horrors,” Lys mocked but Dorian could hear the smile in his voice.

He turned his head, pressing a kiss to Lys’ neck. The warmth of the bonfire, comfort of Lys pressed to him and the intoxicating smell of his husband’s cologne were getting to Dorian and he felt himself slowly drifting off to sleep.

“Hey, lovebirds!”

Dorian jumped up at the voice and looked around, spotting Varric heading their way.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already!”

“The senior citizen here got sleepy,” Lys called back, causing Dorian to smack him lightly in the arm still wrapped around him.

“Excuse you! I’m only two years older!”

Lys chuckled, throwing his head back.

“And look what difference those two years make!”

“Now, now, don’t fight on your wedding day. Night? Well, don’t fight. It’s bad luck,” Varric chided them half-heartedly. “Better get back to the party. Your aunt said she heard that speeches are a common thing on human weddings and she wrote one, so Sparkler would feel more comfortable.”

Dorian raised his brows, turning to look at Lys, whose face was a mixture of amusement and horror.

“Oh no. Oh, by the Creators,” the elf sighed and Dorian and Varric chuckled.

“Please, Charms! I can’t wait to hear another story of your aunt’s. She’s fascinating!” Varric begged, a huge smile on his face. “She told us the story of her affair with the duchess of Markham, in great detail. Did you know the duchess is actually Choir Boy’s aunt? I didn’t and neither did your aunt. He’s still beet red.”

“But now she’ll be telling stories of me…” Lys whined but it was clear he wasn’t going to put up a fight. Dorian untangled himself from him and stood up, offering Lavellan his hand.

“Good. I’d love to hear more about your childhood shenanigans. Maybe I’ll finally hear the full story of how you burned off half of your hair? I’m still not sure what happened there.”

“Don’t you dare ask her about that,” Lys warned but grabbed Dorian’s hand and let him pull him up to his feet. He ended up standing very close to him, their faces barely a few inches apart. Lavellan smiled a soft, happy smile and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Dorian’s lips.

“Shall we?”

“Naturally.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't a long chapter but it's something small I wanted to have here. I am so grateful to all who read this fic, left kudos and if you left a comment, I love you forever! <3 I loved writing this fic, the idea came over me and I knew I had to write it out. I never expected it to be so long but I had so much fun writing it and I hope you had fun reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Any feedback is always welcome!  
> Find me on Tumblr [@aymayzing](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/aymayzing)


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